


Without the Words

by blatheringbluejay



Series: Things With Feathers [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Additional tags added as the story goes on, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-30 06:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blatheringbluejay/pseuds/blatheringbluejay
Summary: In the aftermath of the events of Paris, Newt and Tina are unsure of a lot of things.  Loyalty, duty, the law, family, friends, and - what might be the biggest challenge of all - romance.  Another request from Dumbledore may lead them on an adventure neither is quite prepared for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of sorts to _Hope is the Thing With Feathers_, but now with Adventure and Plot! It's not strictly necessary to read that first, but it's alluded to a couple of times, so it's probably helpful.

Tina watched as Newt walked away from them with his old professor, following the scurrying niffler toward the imposing towers of Hogwarts castle.

“Well, Merlin knows how long they’ll be,” Theseus mumbled. “We’ve got to get back to the Ministry,” he announced with a nod toward Travers and the others, “if anyone has somewhere else they need to go, you’re welcome to come along. I can get you access to the floo network or a Ministry portkey.”

Kama and Nagini seemed to be engaged in a private conversation, before Nagini gave a nod and Kama turned to Theseus. “We would like to get back to Paris. There is much work to be done, and Nagini has agreed to assist. I’d like to speak more with Mr. Flamel.”

Theseus nodded. “I’ll see about getting you both named as Ministry informants, if you want. There’d be a vetting process, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to work out right now. We’ll be needing all the help we can get, and I’m willing to vouch for you both after last night. Being loosely attached to the Ministry would give you a small amount of protection, and would allow you to move more freely.”

Tina, suddenly anxious, looked toward where Newt and Dumbledore had gone, then back toward Theseus, before taking a breath and stepping forward to get his attention. “Mr. Scamander.” _It felt odd to call anyone other than Newt that._

“Miss Goldstein,” Theseus returned with a tilt of his chin and a slight, bemused, smile. “Did you need to contact MACUSA? I can put you in touch with someone there.” Tina’s eyes involuntarily flickered back to the direction Newt had gone, and Theseus seemed to notice. “Or,” he said, his smile becoming a bit too knowing for Tina’s liking, “you can wait here for my brother. Hogwarts should be most accommodating to you, and I suspect Newt would like to show his friends -” he nodded in Jacob’s direction as well - “around.”

Tina was torn between wanting to desperately cling to the gentle comfort and familiarity that Newt provided, and her sense of duty. Her hesitancy must’ve been plain on her face, because Theseus’ features softened more, and he tilted his head down as he raised his eyes to speak more gently to her - a gesture that was so _Newt_ it took Tina by surprise. She hadn’t thought the brothers very similar, but she supposed any pair of siblings was bound to have characteristics in common, and to be fair she’d barely met Theseus. “Stay, if that’s what you want. All of this mess will still be here. I’ll be by Newt’s later to check in, since I assume he’ll take you there when you’re done here. We can talk official business then.”

She nodded and looked down at her feet, then back up at him. “Could I...ask you a favor?”

He tilted his head inquisitively and gave a nod.

“Could you let me know if you hear anything about my sister, Queenie? Or me, for that matter. You don’t have to go looking into anything, just...maybe keep an ear open? I’m not sure where I stand, officially.” Tina felt a bit like a coward, afraid to face her own government, but right now she wasn’t sure how much she cared for or trusted said government, and couldn’t guarantee that she could hold her tongue if faced with accusations and insinuations about her or Queenie. She’d end up demoted all over again.

“Of course,” he said softly, eyes full of understanding. Tina still wasn’t entirely sure how much she could trust him - being so ingrained in the Ministry as he was - but he was a tentative ally, and seemed to be a decent man, and she’d take any allies she could get. He was also Newt’s brother, and despite their “complicated relationship,” as Newt had put it, she could see there was love there. She didn’t think he’d deliberately do anything to hurt Newt’s friends in any way.

“Thank you, Mr. Scamander.”

He looked at her, tilting his head as if sizing her up. He opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again, as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite figure out what. His expression finally settled back to one of stony seriousness and he nodded yet again. “I’ll be in touch.”

Tina watched as everyone else disapperated, leaving only her and Jacob still standing on the viaduct.

“So,” Jacob said as he glanced around somewhat nervously, “what are we REALLY looking at here? Because all I see is a pile of rubble with warning signs to stay away, and I’m guessing that’s not where Newt just disappeared to.”

She smiled at the way their non-magical friend just went with everything they threw at him. Of course Hogwarts would have disillusionment and repulsion charms to keep no-maj hikers away. “This is Hogwarts, Jacob. It’s an impressive castle, but not as beautiful as Ilvermorny by half. C’mon, let’s go see what all the fuss is about.”

As they walked toward the castle, Tina found herself becoming a little unsure of exactly how to proceed. She trusted that Newt wouldn’t have just left them there if he hadn’t known they’d be able to get inside and would be well-received, but he may have also assumed Theseus or the other aurors would be with them still, and they’d know what to do.

Her worry, it turned out, was all for naught. As they approached the doors they swung open with a loud creak, revealing a stiff-postured house elf who regarded them with a calculating look.

“Miss Goldstein and Mr. Kowalski, I presume?”

Tina and Jacob looked at each other in surprise before turning back to the elf. “Uh...yeah,” Jacob replied as Tina whispered “yes.”

The elf bowed. “I am Podrey, at your service. Now, if you’ll please follow me, Master Dumbledore has instructed me to take his guests to the kitchens for a good breakfast and to warm up by the fire.”

At the word “breakfast” Tina felt her stomach clench - a reminder that she hadn’t eaten anything substantial since yesterday. The growl coming from Jacob’s stomach indicated he was in much the same situation.

“My stomach says lead the way, Mr. Podrey,” Jacob said cheerfully, though, Tina noted, his usual jovial tone had been nearly absent. It had been an exhausting twenty-four hours, or longer, for all of them.

As they walked through the doors Jacob suddenly stopped and stared, head darting all around. “Whoa!” he exhaled, “one minute I’m lookin’ at nothing, and the next there’s a castle all around me.”

Prodrey and Tina both aimed an amused smile at his shock and awe. “Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Mr. Kowalski. We don’t see many muggles here, but when we do they do seem to react in much a similar manner.”

They were led down several hallways and staircases (“be careful,” Podrey warned them, “they change”) to the cozy warmth of the kitchens, where they were ushered over to a small table by the fireplace and onto a bench. They’d barely sat down before a flurry of house elves deposited plate after steaming plate in front of them - piled high with eggs, bacon, several types of sausages, pastries, pancakes, toast, and beans.

“Beans?” Jacob asked. “For breakfast? Is that a wizard thing?”

Tina wrinkled her nose. “No, that’s definitely a _British_ thing.” They both spooned some onto their plate though, neither of them wanting to appear rude to their hosts. She was suddenly famished, and she didn’t much care what she was eating, so long as it was food.

A tray of tea and coffee was also set before them, along with a small bottle of exotic-looking whiskey. Podrey cleared his throat as he explained, “Master Dumbledore thought that perhaps this morning you might require your coffee or tea to be a little more...fortified.”

Tina wanted the caffeine more than anything, and chose her coffee black. She watched with a pang of sadness as Jacob added a generous splash of whiskey to his. He really wasn’t holding up as well as he was pretending. “Mr. Dumbledore seems like a smart guy,” Jacob agreed before taking a small sip and sighing. “Tell him thanks for me.”

“You can tell him yourself, Mr, Kowalski,” came a voice from the doorway. They both looked up to see a kindly-looking wizard with a smile and a twinkle in his eye walking toward them, Newt trailing behind in his usual awkward shuffle. The man extended his hand and shook both of theirs. “Albus Dumbledore. Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Dumbledore,” Tina said politely as she sipped her coffee.

“Just Dumbledore, please. And think nothing of it. Any friend of Newt’s is a friend of mine.” His smile turned almost devilish as he gave her a somewhat knowing look. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Goldstein. Newt’s told me very little about you with words, but his actions speak very highly of you.”

Newt’s eyes immediately flew to hers as he opened his mouth in a squeak of protest before finally settling his expression on one of fond exasperation as he glared at his old teacher.

Dumbledore chuckled before lowering his head and putting his hands in his pockets. When he raised his eyes again, his expression was suddenly somber. “But, honestly, breakfast is the least I could do. You’ve been through a very harrowing night, I’m told.”

None of them quite knew how to respond, each of them quietly looking away at nothing in particular. Dumbledore smiled again, but this time it was strained and didn’t meet his eyes. “Well. I’ll leave Newt with you. The first class of the day will be starting soon, and I’ve got to prepare. Stay as long as you’d like. Newt knows the way out, whenever you choose to leave. Please let the elves know if you need anything else.” And with a small salute of his fingers, he turned and left just as quietly as he’d appeared.

Newt sat down across from Tina and reached for a piece of toast. “Dumbledore isn’t sure if he can break the blood pact. He tried _literally_ breaking it, or the pendant itself anyway, but that didn’t work. He’s going to consult with some of his friends to see if they might know of a way to weaken the magic enough to destroy it.” He grabbed a pot of marmalade and glanced up at her and Jacob. “Nobody else stayed?”

“No,” Tina confirmed softly, watching as Newt smeared his toast with marmalade. “Theseus wanted to get back to the Ministry, and the others went with him. Kama and Nagini are going back to Paris. They’ve decided to work together, and with us to find out what they can about Grindelwald’s plans. Theseus mentioned getting them listed as Ministry contacts.”

“And they agreed to that?” Newt asked in surprise, pausing mid-stroke of his knife over the toast.

Tina shrugged. “He said something about them being able to move around more freely. I suppose it makes sense. My guess is it’ll all be under the radar. Consultants, but nothing “official.” They’ll be spies, basically, but free to go where they please so long as they report anything noteworthy back. At least, that’s how MACUSA operates.”

Newt, having finished slathering his toast with a generous amount of marmalade, took a bite and made a blissful moaning sound that Tina’s heart was absolutely _not_ suddenly beating faster at the sound of. “It still tastes the same,” he mumbled with his mouth still half full of toast. “Nowhere else on the planet has marmalade that tastes quite like the kind made at Hogwarts.”

Tina smiled at him as Jacob, who she had absolutely _not_ forgotten was there, hummed in agreement around a mouthful of his own marmalade toast. “This is _really_ good stuff.”

“Speaking of MACUSA,” Newt said, abruptly bringing the subject back around, “do you need to contact them?” He rubbed his fingers together where a bit of sticky marmalade had gotten on them, awkwardly avoiding her eyes.

“I asked your brother to keep an ear out for anything about me, or...Queenie.” Damn it, she was still struggling to say her sister’s name without choking up. Newt noticed, and his wonderfully gentle eyes turned to her as he gave a tiny sympathetic smile. “He said he’s going to check in with us tonight, at your house. If things seem okay, I’ll go to the ministry tomorrow and contact MACUSA. If not…” she frowned, and sighed. “Well I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“What do you mean?” Jacob asked, not quite following the conversation.

“I mean,” Tina said, “that there’s a possibility MACUSA will treat Queenie - and by extension, possibly me - as a threat. If they know she went with Grindelwald, which I’m certain they do by now, she’ll be wanted. I’ll be, at the very least, wanted for questioning. I’m just not sure what they’ll do to me if they get suspicious and think I might be lying, or secretly also with Grindelwald.” She grimaced. “They definitely won’t be happy if they find out about her legilimency, which I’ve neglected to ever mention. I’ve always respected the law, but it’s hard to say what extreme measures MACUSA will take right now. They’ve already had Grindelwald impersonate an employee _twice_, and then escape. They’ll be extra cautious.”

“That’s…” Jacob sputtered, indignant, “I mean, Queenie’d never hurt anybody! _You’d_ never hurt anybody!”

Tina sighed. “They’re scared, Jacob. Fear makes people think and do terrible things. And, in the name of following orders and upholding the law, other people will do terrible things without question.” She hadn’t forgotten how, under orders, people she’d considered friendly acquaintances had unquestioningly led her to her death. It was when she’d really began to, as Newt put it, go “middle-head,” though she supposed helping Credence the first time was what set her off in the first place.

Newt’s hand was hovering awkwardly over the table, as though he wanted to reach out for her but wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it, or if he even should. He finally seemed to settle on snatching another piece of toast instead. She looked up to find him watching her, expression sad but overwhelmingly, unmistakably affectionate. She smiled weakly in return.

Jacob grimaced at her words. “I’ve been to war, I’ve seen it happen. It’s just...you always want to believe it’s the other side - the bad guys - blindly doing awful things in the name of following orders. You never wanna believe it’s your own people.”

Tina nodded. “I don’t know what I’ll do if they aggressively try to bring me in for questioning. Maybe I can see if Theseus could grant me some sort of immunity through the Ministry as a consulting auror, or something like that. Make it sound like I’m needed here.”

“You _are_ needed here,” Newt mumbled, low enough that she’d barely made out the words. His cheeks tinged pink when he looked up and realized she’d heard him. “After all,” he backpedaled, “your original objective was to find Credence and help him, and we still haven’t done that.”

“And now he’s with Grindelwald and the trail’s gone cold,” Tina pointed out with a sigh. “I don’t know if that’s reason enough to keep me here.”

“Well,” Newt curved his lips into a smile, but there was no happiness behind it, and he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “As I said before - if it comes to it, we’ll find a way. I won’t let them treat you like a criminal, Tina. You...you’ve done nothing wrong.” He pulled his gaze up to hers, his eyes mossy steel, and her chest seized at the intensity in them. She could only stare back.

“Hear, hear!” Jacob shouted, raising his coffee mug in agreement as he was either oblivious to or choosing to ignore the tension simmering between his two companions. “They’re not takin’ you without a fight, Teen.”

It was the use of the familiar affectionate nickname that broke her, and she smiled as tears welled up in her eyes. It felt good to have others willing to fight with you and for you. It felt good to have _family._

* * *

They’d finished their breakfast and Newt hesitantly asked them if they’d like to go back to his house and rest, or if they’d like a quick tour of Hogwarts. Tina, sensing that Newt was inwardly buzzing with energy and longing to spend a little time steeped in nostalgia, agreed to be shown around. Jacob had smiled at them and said he preferred it there in the warm quiet kitchen where nothing moved out from under him. Despite his smile, his eyes held a deep melancholy as he poured a bit more whiskey into his cup, and Tina and Newt glanced at each other with mirrored looks of concern as they walked away from their friend.

“Do you think he’ll be okay alone?” Tina asked, glancing behind her and feeling vaguely guilty for leaving Jacob

“I think it might actually be what’s best for him right now,” Newt replied with a pained smile. “Jacob has a tendency to...pretend, I think...for the sake of everyone else. He needs some time to let himself be sad. I don’t think he’s quite processed the last couple of days yet.” He puffed out his breath and absently ruffled the hair at the back of his head. “I’m not sure any of us really have, to be honest. I feel like I’m still running on adrenaline and...denial, maybe.”

“Yeah,” Tina sighed in agreement. It was a good assessment of her own state.

Newt stopped in front of a stack of barrels and was inexplicably gazing fondly at them. Off Tina’s questioning look, he smiled. “This is the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room and dormitories.”

“A...barrel?” Tina asked, incredulous.

He grinned and nodded. “Round doors are sort of a Hufflepuff theme. You needed to tap out the rhythm of the name of the house founder on…” he trailed his finger along the barrels for a moment, seemingly mentally counting over and up until he stopped in front of one barrel in particular “...this one, and the door would be revealed.” With a sigh he stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets, gazing at the barrel wistfully. “Best not try it though, might give the students a bit of a shock for us to pop in unannounced. Plus I’m not sure if they’ve changed the entrance procedure, and I’d hate for us to get doused in vinegar if we get it wrong.”

“Vinegar?” Tina turned to him, eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” he smiled, “to keep out intruders. Though all in all ours was the easiest house room to access, possibly due to the Hufflepuff reputation for friendship and hospitality. Gryffindor and Slytherin required passwords that changed frequently, and Ravenclaws had to solve a riddle before they could get into their common room, which always seemed a bit unnecessary and tedious to me, especially if you’d had a hard day and just wanted to go to bed.”

Tina couldn’t help the fond smile that crept across her face while listening to him go on about Hogwarts houses. He was enjoying the bit of nostalgia, and she couldn’t help but get caught up in his enthusiasm when he spoke fondly of his old school house. She also couldn’t resist a bit of teasing.

“Dousing someone in vinegar is a sign of friendship and hospitality?”

“I…” Newt’s mouth snapped shut, and Tina couldn’t help but grin. “It...could be worse?” he offered, and she laughed. It was weak and rusty, but it felt good.

“I wish I could show it to you right now,” Newt said, voice tinged with nostalgia and pride. “It’s so warm and bright and cozy. Full of plants and sunshine and the most comfortable chairs in the entire world. Much better than the other houses’ common rooms - why, Slytherin’s is in the dungeon, and it’s so cold and dark and damp, I could never understand how Leta - “

He froze suddenly at the mention of her name, his expression immediately shifting from fond memories to a very recent pain. He seemed to hunch in on himself, his hands still shoved deep into his pockets as he stared at the ground.

Tina took a step toward him, hands hanging awkwardly at her sides, unsure if she should offer up some comfort via touch, unsure of how welcome that would be. She was unsure of where exactly she stood with him. Last night in his suitcase they’d confessed to caring about one another, but it was all so new and raw, and physicality with other people had never been something she was very good at navigating. Nor was he, it seemed. In their exhaustion and grief they’d leaned on one another both literally and metaphorically, but in the light of day the casual comforting touch just didn’t seem to happen naturally. She didn’t know how to _do_ this.

She settled for invading his space slightly, leaning her head down until she could catch his downturned eyes with hers. “It’s okay,” she told him, gently, knowing that it wasn’t, “do you want to leave? We can go if this is too much right now.”

“No,” he replied, flashing her a quick, slightly pained, smile before looking down at his feet again, “no, I...I think this is good actually. I think I need to do this. It hurts, but Leta is so much a _part_ of this place for me--every corner I turn reminds me of her in some way--and I think it’s good to remember. I haven’t been back here since I was a student, and the memories are just a little...overwhelming.”

“Do you want to be alone?” Tina asked, fearing he’d say yes but knowing she’d give him whatever space he needed.

Newt’s eyes shot up to hers. “No!” he replied quickly, perhaps a little too loudly, as he took a shuffling step toward her and held her gaze earnestly. He appeared a little embarrassed by his outburst, and she could see the pink tinge on his cheeks as he lowered his voice. “No. There’s...there’s nobody else I’d rather do this with, Tina. It’s a bittersweet onslaught of memories, but I also want to share this place with someone. Um...with _you_. I want you here with me. I rather think I..._need_ you here with me.” He looked away from her then, nervous or embarrassed about his admission, and it struck her that he was as unsure about all this as she was. She decided to do the brave thing and reached out for his hand, clasping it gently between both of hers.

Newt raised his eyes back up and this time held her gaze as his hand tightened around hers. The air was thick with emotion, and Tina was suddenly aware of how close they were standing, and of how warm his hand was in hers, and of just how beautiful the shifting green-blue-amber hues of his eyes were up close and when they were intently focused on her own.

The sound of approaching voices caused them to hurriedly drop hands and take a step away from each other, just as a small group of students in yellow scarves turned the corridor and came to a halt in front of them. Their chatter died as they took in the no-doubt-unexpected sight of two adults standing in front of their dormitory door. The boy in front of the group took one look at Newt and gasped.

“Blimey! You’re Newt Scamander!”

Newt looked startled, and, Tina noted, had immediately shifted back into his more awkward mannerisms - not quite looking at them and ducking his head to glance up through the fringe of his hair. “Um...yes?”

“I have your book!” another student cried out excitedly.

The first student rolled his eyes and turned back to look at the smaller boy who’d shouted. “EVERYONE’S got his book, genius!”

“I…” Newt shifted, clearly embarrassed, and Tina could see that he was struggling to keep up with the sudden unexpected bit of recognition. He looked at her, eyes pleading to somehow get him out of this, but she was at as much of a loss as he was.

“Newt bloody Scamander!” the boy exclaimed again, “here at Hogwarts! Only the most famous Hufflepuff since Helga herself, and I practically ran into him.”

Newt scoffed at the praise. “I _hardly_ think…”

“Okay, okay, don’t scare the poor man.” A girl at the back of the group pushed her way forward and nodded toward the dormitory door. “Would you like to come in, Mr. Scamander? We just got back from breakfast and none of us have class for a bit.” She frowned, glancing at Tina and perhaps picking up on the charged atmosphere. “U-unless you’ve got somewhere else to be. We won’t keep you waiting. Just thought you might like to visit the common room, but...”

“Could we?” Newt asked as his eyes widened with hopeful enthusiasm. “It’s...been a long time.”

The students all smiled, and Tina soon found herself climbing through a round door and crawling up a short earthen passage (_like a badger_, she realized, remembering the mascot of Newt’s house) to another round door. The students (and Newt, she noticed fondly) scampered up the passage with ease, well-practised in navigating the entrance. Tina was a bit slower, and Newt paused in the doorway to extend a helping hand. Tina gratefully grasped his hand as their eyes met and they smiled shyly at one another. The moment - and the hand hold - was broken a second later as Newt moved to back through the doorway and smacked his head off of it as he tumbled through.

“Ow.” Newt rubbed his head and grinned sheepishly from where he sat sprawled on the floor as Tina bent her own tall frame through the doorway. “The last time I was here I was, um, a bit smaller.”

The students giggled and Tina flashed him an amused smile. It was her turn to extend a hand to help him to his feet, which he readily accepted. Aware they had an audience, Tina dropped his hand rather reluctantly and turned to take in the room.

Faded yellow brick walls and warm honey oak beams made up the structure of the space, with a pleasantly crackling fireplace on one side and round windows lining the top of the wall near the low ceiling. Early morning sunlight poured through the windows, casting the room in a warm glow. Potted plants hung from the ceiling, and more were set on stands and tables throughout the room. One particular vine had begun to creep along the wall toward another round door, but some thoughtful student had used a bit of twine to redirect it out of the doorway’s path. The whole place gave off a feeling of calm happiness and warmth, and Tina could see why Newt had felt so at home here. She glanced over to see him looking around with a peaceful smile, though the weight of bittersweet memories was visible in his tired eyes.

One of the students cleared her throat and approached them. “You can sit down and make yourself at home if you’d like, Mr. Scamander, and, uh, Miss…?”

Oh, right. They had no idea who she was. “Goldstein,” she supplied with a soft smile. “But call me Tina.”

The girl’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re American!”

Newt finally seemed to snap out of his dazed trip down memory lane. “Oh!” he exclaimed, sheepishly, “so sorry, where are my manners? You all know who I am, but we seem to have skipped right over introductions.” He turned his gaze to Tina, and she could see something in his eyes soften. “Tina is my friend from New York. I’m just...showing her around Hogwarts.” He left it at that, probably for the best. The students didn’t need to wonder why an auror from MACUSA was here. Her heart did a little flip-flop at his use of the word “friend,” but at the moment she wasn’t sure how else to describe their relationship. And for sure their uncertainty around each other didn’t need to be dredged up and put on display in front of a room of teenagers.

The room suddenly exploded in noise as all the kids began shouting.

“New York!”

“The buildings there are so tall!”

“Did you go to Ilvermorny?”

“What’s it like?”

“Do you have quidditch in America?”

“Are you and Mr. Scamander dating?”

That last question threw her for a loop, and without fully meaning to she found her eyes shooting to Newt, who looked equally thrown as his eyes widened and shot up to hers. She saw him go pale before crimson flushed into his cheeks, and she could feel her face warming from her own matching blush.

Thankfully, they were both saved by Pickett, who had poked his head out of Newt’s pocket to see what all the fuss was about, and began chattering excitedly when he recognized where they were.

The students immediately lost interest in Tina.

“Is that a bowtruckle?”

“Does it live in your pocket?”

“Can they really pick locks?”

Newt, looking immensely relieved by his little friend’s timing, grinned as he gently lifted PIckett out of his pocket. The bowtruckle chirped in alarm at being bombarded by shouting teens, and tried his best to hide behind Newt’s thumb.

“This is Pickett, and yes, he’s a bowtruckle. He’s got some attachment issues, which is why he prefers traveling in my pocket instead of staying with his branch on his tree. He’s feeling a little shy right now though, so if you’d please, could you all step back a little and give him some space?

The students immediately did as asked, and Tina smiled at the sudden change in Newt. It was like a switch was flipped, and the shy awkward man was transformed into a confident expert, easily speaking about magical creatures with passion.

Ignored for the moment, TIna sat down in a worn yellow overstuffed armchair that had been pushed close to the fireplace and watched with amusement as an impromptu magizoology lesson had begun. The students were interested and engaged, and Tina found herself wondering if he’d ever considered teaching. Probably not - it was far too routine for him, and probably a bit too much like an office job. But a pleasant feeling bubbled up in her chest at the sight of him lighting up as he talked about his favorite subject. Seeing him not only answer questions but seemingly taking great delight in talking about his creatures, asking his own questions to get the students thinking, and employing his own particular type of wit to make them smile was...well, it was downright charming. A fact which, TIna noted, hadn’t gone unnoticed by one girl in the group, who was smiling up at him in rapt attention. Something he said made her giggle and blush, and Tina grinned knowingly. Newt was bound to gain a following of admirers with his newfound fame, and she suspected that he’d be utterly oblivious to it all. She wondered if he had any idea that he was kinda..._cute._

Tina’s mind began to wander away from what Newt was saying as she took in more details of the room. The chair she was curled into really was as comfortable as Newt had advertised, as was the coziness of the room. One of the windows was cracked open a bit, and the chirps and calls of songbirds could be heard along with the softly whistling breeze. It was a pleasant mix of sounds when blended with Newt’s equally pleasant voice in the background, and she thought maybe she’d just close her eyes. Just for a moment.

____________________

Her eyes fluttered open again at the sound of her name softly being called and the feel of a feather-light brush of fingers along her cheek. Newt was leaning over her, giving her the same sort of affectionate smile that she’d seen aimed at some of his favorite creatures (though Newt would deny he had favorites, and, really, comparing herself to beasts should probably feel insulting, instead of the exact opposite). Newt withdrew his touch and straightened when he saw that she was awake, and he glanced away, shoving his hands into his pockets as if to physically restrain himself from reaching for her again. Tina missed the gentle touch immediately. She wondered how to encourage him to give in to any impulses he had to be physically affectionate. How exactly did one convey that they were extremely open to having their space invaded? She sure as heck didn’t know.

“Did I fall asleep?” she asked, slightly surprised. She hadn’t felt that close to dropping off, but a look around the room told her they were now alone.

“Just a smidge,” Newt answered, teasing. She tried to shoot him a glare in return, but an enormous yawn hijacked her face’s attempt to look peeved. It only made his smile widen.

“We should go,” he said, eyes softening as he appeared to be taking in her sleep-rumpled appearance. “The students had to go to class, so we probably shouldn’t hang about the common room, and you’re exhausted. We can go collect Jacob and be on our way.”

Oh. When he said “go” he meant..._go._ “But you’ve barely got to look around!” Tina protested. “We can stay a while longer, I don’t mind.” The yawn punctuating the end of her sentence said otherwise, though, and Newt gave her a knowing look.

“We can come back sometime. There will be more meetings with Dumbledore, I’m sure. And,” he began, only to be interrupted by his own yawn, “to be honest I’m quite exhausted myself, all of a sudden. Um, as you can clearly see. We all need rest.”

Tina nodded, and followed him back out the round door and into the kitchens, where they found Jacob slumped over the table fast asleep and snoring. They shared a concerned glance at one another as they each took in the noticeable tear tracks on their friend’s face. It was almost a pity to wake him; he looked like he could use the rest.

“Jacob,” Newt called softly as he gently tapped him on the shoulder.

The light tap was all it took. Jacob sat up with a jolt and a loud broken-off snore. “I don’t wanna go to school today,” he mumbled, still half-asleep, “I think I’m sick.”

“That’d be the firewhiskey,” Newt replied nonchalantly, “and so sorry about school, but you’re currently in one.”

“Huh?” Jacob blinked blearily as he slowly came to full wakefulness. “Oh. Right.” he nodded as he took in his surroundings, then groaned at the motion. “Firewhiskey, huh? How long was I out? Sure don’t seem like it should be long enough to end up with a hangover.”

“Not if you’re a wizard, no, but you’re a muggle, and your physiology is -”

“Yeah, yeah, different, I get it.” Jacob blinked a few more times, trying to clear his head. “Magic booze is off-limits.”

Calling out thank yous to the house elves, they made their way out of the castle and apparated to Hogsmeade. From there they took the floo network to London (which Jacob was not a fan of, but he admitted was better than a portkey), and soon Tina found herself standing in front of the door to a small house that looked just like every other house in the row around it.

It wasn’t how she imagined Newt living, when she’d indulged in daydreams of what he looked like when he was writing his letters, or what he was up to at any given moment when thoughts of him came storming into her mind (which they did more and more frequently as of late). She knew he lived in London, but had pictured something unique, maybe a little quirky. A small apartment in an old building with a lot of character, maybe. An unassuming townhouse right in the middle of London didn’t seem to fit him at all.

Inside wasn’t much different, when he ushered them through the door. The furnishings were sparse, impersonal, and looked barely used. He pointed out the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom, and told them to make themselves at home.

“As sleep is the most pressing concern at the moment, Tina...I’d like to offer you the bedroom.” He averted his eyes as he said it, and Tina felt herself blushing despite knowing there was nothing at all inappropriate about the offer.

“And, Jacob -” Newt turned to find that their friend had already claimed the small sofa and was shifting around into a comfortable position.

“I’m good here,” Jacob waved them off with a yawn and closed his eyes. Newt waved his wand and a blanket unfolded itself and covered him gently. “Hey, thanks, buddy,” Jacob mumbled as he snugged the blanket under his chin and immediately fell asleep.

“So,” Tina glanced over at the narrow bed in the next room, “where will you sleep?”

Newt looked at his feet before glancing back up in her direction, a slightly sheepish smile on his face. “I usually sleep in the basement, with the creatures. I like being nearby, in case they need me, and...truthfully, I find it calming.”

Tina smiled. Of course. He’d mentioned that he has a hospital of sorts for beasts in his basement, and that probably explained why his house looked so unlived in. Newt was a wanderer, and carried with him the closest thing he likely felt to home. It only made sense that he’d want to sleep in the place most similar to his suitcase.

“I’d like to see it,” she said, smiling at him fondly. “Your basement, I mean.”

He looked at her, really looked at her, and the expression on his face could only be described as _pleased_. “Of course, Tina. But later. You need a good long nap.” He lifted his case from where he’d set it near his feet. “I’ve got to get a few of these fellows settled back in, and then I plan to sleep the rest of the day away and leave the lighter work to Bunty.”

“Bunty?”

“Oh. My assistant. I think I mentioned her in my letters?”

“Your last letter mentioned you’d hired an assistant, but you didn’t give a name.” _Or a gender,_ Tina chastised herself for the brief pang of jealousy that she felt. Assuming things about other women in Newt’s life hadn’t worked out so well for her recently.

“Oh, well, she’s brilliant with the creatures. I don’t know what I’d do without her, with how busy I’ve been recently with the book.” He looked down in embarrassment at that - the bit of fame that came with the book’s success was clearly not something he had anticipated or desired.

Newt shuffled his feet and swayed a bit, still not quite looking at her. “Well. I’ll leave you to it. If, um...if you’d like something more comfortable to sleep in, there are pajamas in the wardrobe drawers there,” he nodded toward the furniture on the other side of the room. “And if you wake up first please help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” He looked up at her for a moment, flashed an awkward smile, and moved to walk away.

“Hey, Newt?” Tina called, unable to help the fond smile on her face. He turned, eyes wide in question. “Thanks.”

His face softened, but his eyes held hers. “Of course.”

They looked at each other silently for a long moment, before Newt abruptly turned and shuffled away. She smiled after him as she closed the bedroom door with a gentle creak.

Tina looked down at the clothes she was wearing - rumpled and dirty from several days of wear, a night in a Parisian sewer, and a pretty intense bit of fighting - and frowned. She could simply do a cleaning spell and then transfigure them into pajamas, but the thought of taking Newt up on his offer and putting on a pair of _his_ pajamas was tempting. She bit her lip as she looked at the wardrobe in the room, faced with a decision, before finally deciding that her clothes could really use aired out in addition to a thorough scourgify. She stripped, hung her clothing over a chair in the room, and whispered every cleaning spell she knew as she pointed her wand at the fabric. Her underthings would have to go back on until she could get a fresh set. There’d been no time to retrieve her small bag of things from the little boarding house she’d booked a room at in Paris, so she’d have to send for them later. Until then she was stuck with the literal clothes on her back.

Well, those, and Newt’s pajamas, she supposed.

She walked over to the wardrobe and, curiosity getting the better of her, opened the doors. Several suits hung there, neatly pressed, along with a few button-up shirts. A familiar blue coat was also hanging, and Tina couldn’t help but reach out and fondly caress the worn wool. She’d assumed he’d replaced it with the gray one he’d been wearing, but apparently he’d not gotten rid of it completely. The color of the old coat suited him, and she missed it. Closing the doors, she moved on to the drawers. The top drawer must have swelled a little at some point and it rasped and squeaked as she carefully tugged it open. Inside was an assortment of socks. Unfolded, unmatched, loose socks just haphazardly thrown into the drawer, with a few pairs of sock garters shoved in one corner. They all seemed to be the same shade of brown. Tina smiled at the sight. How like Newt to not bother neatly matching and folding identical articles of clothing. He could be meticulously organized when it came to caring for his beasts - she’d seen food carefully stored and labeled in his suitcase, and notes about feeding schedules and quantities for each of them - but she’d also seen his cluttered workspace where things that were of lesser importance were simply strewn about. Socks, apparently, didn’t rank very high on the list of important things worth organizing.

The next drawer contained sloppily-folded underwear, both the short and long variety, but Tina quickly closed it in embarrassment. She hadn’t really thought much about Newt’s underclothes, and she wasn’t certain she was ready to let her mind wander into that terrain just yet.

The third drawer was deeper, and held folded sweaters in one half and casual trousers in shades of brown and tan and navy blue in the other. She realized, looking at his clothing, that she’d never seen Newt in anything more casual than a suit. Surely he didn’t wear them all the time? She ran her hand over the soft fabric of the trousers and imagined that this must be what he wore at home. Comfortable clothing for when he didn’t plan to go out.

Finally, in the bottom drawer she found a few identical pairs of pajamas. They were a deep blue with white pinstripes, and they looked brand new. She wondered if he ever actually wore them, or if he just fell asleep in whatever he’d been wearing that day. The latter seemed far more likely based on what she knew of Newt.

Thanks to her height, the pajamas fit well enough. Not too long in the legs or arms, though the top was a little loose once buttoned, and she had to pull the drawstring rather tight at the waist in order to keep them in place. The fabric was incredibly soft, undeniably genuine silk, and she was certain they must have been expensive. Nicer than any pajamas she’d ever owned, at any rate. She wondered if he’d purchased them himself, or if they’d been a gift. She’d heard his book was doing well - _very well_ \- but Newt wasn’t the sort to talk about financial matters, and she wasn’t the sort to ask. Silk pajamas that would rarely, if ever, be worn seemed an indulgence Newt was unlikely to invest in, though. Her money was on them being a gift.

Tina walked over to the small bed and sat down, bouncing a little to test the springs. The mattress creaked in protest, and she wondered just how long Newt had owned it. Pulling back the covers and climbing inside, she became certain that this bed was as old as she was. It was lumpy and definitely not the most comfortable thing she had ever slept on, but it also wasn’t the _least_ comfortable place she’d ever slept, not by far. It’d do. She snuggled into the pillow and inhaled deeply, and tried to tamp down the disappointment she felt that the bed only very faintly smelled at all like Newt. _He did say he doesn’t usually sleep here_, she thought to herself, but the realization that she’d been hoping to feel some sort of connection to him by sleeping in his bed made her face feel flushed. Flustered by her lovesick foolishness, she quickly waved her wand at the room to darken it into some illusion of night time, and set her wand down on the bedside table.

She was asleep as soon as her eyes closed.


	2. Chapter 2

When Tina awoke the room was considerably darker even though she was sure the room-darkening spell should have worn off by now. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was now early evening. She yawned and stretched, feeling several blissful pops along her spine as things shifted back into place. The bed hadn’t been the most comfortable, but the sleep had been needed and she felt much better than she had that morning.

As she took stock of her senses she was hit with the smell of food cooking, and the growl in her stomach urged her to investigate the source. Deciding not to bother changing out of the comfort of Newt’s pajamas and back into her old clothes, she borrowed a pair of socks from the wardrobe drawer (surely Newt wouldn’t mind) and padded out into the kitchen.

Jacob was standing in front of the stove, humming gently as he stirred something in a skillet. He looked in better spirits than he had that morning, but he still seemed weary in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. Noticing her presence, he looked up and smiled.

“Good mo-er, ah, evening!” he chuckled. “Newt doesn’t have a whole lot in his pantry or cupboards, but I found eggs and potatoes and onions, so we’ve got scrambled eggs and hash browns.” He turned his attention to the eggs that were keeping warm in a skillet on the back burner and poked at them gingerly with a spatula. “At least I _think_ these are chicken eggs.” He shrugged and went back to giving the hash browns a stir. “Breakfast for dinner sound okay to you? My head has no idea what time it is.”

Tina gave a soft smile in response. “It smells wonderful.” She fiddled with the sleeve of her borrowed pajamas as she glanced around the small room. “Is, uh, Newt up yet?”

“Nah,” Jacob replied with an annoyingly knowing grin. “Wanna go wake him up and let him know there’s food ready?”

“Oh,” she said, looking toward the basement door, “sure.”

Jacob’s grin faltered as he no doubt noticed her hesitancy. “So, did you two talk? You were down in that suitcase for an awfully long time last night.”

“Jacob…” she warned, but he pressed on.

“You know I only wanna see the two a you happy.” 

“I know,” she whispered, not quite looking at him. “We did talk. We got all the misunderstandings cleared up. It’s just...hard. I’ve never really felt…” she hesitated, not feeling entirely comfortable with spilling her heart to Jacob, but also desperately wanting to confide in someone. She missed Queenie more than ever - missed the way she didn’t ever have to try to find the words to explain the mysteries going on inside her head - Queenie always just _knew_. “I’ve never done any of this before. Not like this. I’ve gone on a few dates here and there, but mostly fellas Queenie set me up with, and nothing ever really came of them. I’m not the sort of girl that has suitors beatin’ down the door, you know? I always thought I was fine with that, but, well, Newt’s...different, and I don’t know what to do.”

Jacob nodded in sympathy as he began toasting some bread. “Well, if it makes ya feel any better, I’m pretty sure Newt’s in the same boat.”

“That _doesn’t_ actually help,” she replied with a pained laugh that ended in a frustrated huff. “I don’t think either of us knows how this works or what to do now.”

“Weeell, maybe you should just trust your instincts. Make the first move. Ya know, I don’t think Newt’d mind if you were a little bold. Just sayin’.” He punctuated the statement with a wink and a face-splitting grin, and Tina felt her face grow very, very hot.

“Jacob!” she groaned and buried her face in her sleeves.

He laughed and nodded toward the basement door. “Go on. Go find your fella and get him up here. These hash browns are just about ready.”

She shook her head as she walked away, still feeling warm in the face but also a pleasant warmth in her chest. It felt good to talk to someone about the object of her affections and frustrations - so much had been bottled up without anyone to confide in. 

As she slowly crept down the stairs, Tina was unsure of what she’d find when she entered the basement. At the bottom of the stairs she was met with more stairs, splitting off into different directions, and the vastness of the space that opened up before her was jaw-dropping. He’d expanded his basement much in the same way he’d expanded his suitcase, but on a much larger scale. The habitats were huge (was that an entire lake?) and stunningly beautiful. She’d thought his case was a work of art, but this was an absolute masterpiece. She passed a window on her way further down the stairs, and looking through it she found an entirely convincing view of lush green countryside. Her appreciation for Newt’s handiness with extension charms grew even more as she took in all the little details of the space.

She came to a stop at an area that she recognized as being similar to his workspace in his case. A desk was littered with papers and books, and shelves and cabinets filled the wall. Tools and medical instruments of all types were neatly hanging or laid out on a nearby table.

Newt was nowhere to be found.

Next to the desk was a chaise of sorts, with a blanket haphazardly piled on it. _Is this where he sleeps?_ She wondered as she picked up the blanket. Suddenly overcome with the urge to lift it to her face and inhale in search of any remnant of his scent, she began to do just that before she was interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing loudly behind her.

Tina dropped the blanket and spun around, mortified at being caught, but not letting it overcome her auror instincts. Her hand flew to her wand as she took in the stranger standing before her. It was a young woman - on the shorter side, red hair tied up in twin buns, and sporting a lot of dirt and stains on her practical dress. She assumed this was Newt’s assistant, then.

The other woman’s eyes went wide and she lowered her own wand. “Oh,” she said, her face falling a little bit as she stared, “you’re Tina.”

“Yes?” Tina snapped, a little peeved that more than once today someone she’d never met seemed to know her.

“Oh,” she said again, flushing and looking a little sheepish. “My apologies, I don’t know where my manners are. Miss Goldstein. I’m Bunty. Um. Newt’s assistant. I…” Bunty’s focus shifted over to a table where Newt’s case was sitting, and she gazed at it, a sort of melancholic longing plainly visible on her face. Turning back to Tina with a sigh, she continued. “I’m sorry for my rudeness. I just...recognized you. I’ve seen your photograph, you see. Um. In his case.”

Tina stowed her wand, immediately recognizing no threat from Bunty. From the somewhat dejected expression on her face, she had an inkling that Bunty’s fondness for Newt went a little beyond fondness for an employer or mentor, or even a friend. The parallel between Tina’s own dejection upon learning of Leta’s photo in Newt’s case and Bunty’s upon meeting the woman in the picture he _now_ carried wasn’t lost on her. She sympathized with the poor girl, and felt a little guilty that Newt was likely oblivious to the affections of his assistant. 

Bunty smiled at her, a little shakily, and Tina smiled back, hoping it conveyed her apology for being snappish. “Nice to meet you, Bunty. Please do call me Tina.” Bunty’s smile became a little more certain as she nodded. 

Tina’s eyes roamed the part of the basement that was within her line of sight. “Is Newt around? I came down to wake him up and tell him there’s food ready, but I guess he’s already awake.”

Bunty pointed to a spot behind Tina’s head. “Back that way, to the left. He’s with the zouwu, helping her settle in. Fascinating creature, but she’s still a little jumpy from how she was treated.” Bunty frowned, eyes flashing with anger at the injustice. “I can’t understand how anyone could chain up such a magnificent creature and be so cruel to her.”

Tina turned and looked in the direction Bunty had pointed, even though she couldn’t see Newt from where she was standing. “She was a circus attraction. People do a lot of cruel things when money is involved.”

Bunty looked at her and nodded, and it seemed as though she was both agreeing with Tina’s statement and offering approval that Tina felt the way she did about the imprisonment of beasts for profit. Her expression then turned...cautious, and she sighed as she met Tina’s eyes.

“Miss Goldstein - sorry - Tina,” she hesitated, biting her lower lip and looking as though she was unsure how to continue. “This isn’t my place, I know, and you can tell me to mind my own business, but...is everything okay with Newt?” Off Tina’s questioning look, she continued. “It’s just...he couldn’t have slept more than two hours, and none of it very restful, from the look of it. He told me he’d had a long night and hadn’t slept, and then barely managed a nap before he was right back to work. I tried to tell him that there wasn’t anything that needed his attention and he could go rest for longer, but he insisted he was fine. Only…” she looked down at her hands as she idly picked some dirt out from under her nails. “He doesn’t LOOK fine. He ran off to Paris with no warning, when he hasn’t traveled anywhere in months, and now he looks like he’s been through a war, if you don’t mind my saying. Did...something happen? Is he all right?”

Tina frowned, then sighed. “He lost someone. A friend. He’s going to be all right, I think, but he’s grieving. I’m not sure how much I can say right now about what happened in Paris, but...war isn’t too far off. We’re all pretty shaken.”

Bunty nodded sadly. “I thought it must be something bad.” She looked at Tina, tilting her head a bit in a questioning manner. “You’re an auror,” it wasn’t a question, but a statement, “so this is...business, then? The reason you’re here?” 

The poor girl looked almost _hopeful_. Tina found herself at a loss as to what was happening. She’d never before been in the situation of holding affections for the same man as another woman did - and certainly never in a situation where _she_ was the one to have those affections returned. It didn’t make her feel like she’d won some silly contest though, it only made her feel awkward, sad, and a little guilty.

“I was in Paris for work, mostly, yeah, but I’m _here_ because Newt’s a...friend.” She reflexively tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at her feet as she said it, feeling her cheeks flush. She was still uncertain as to how to refer to Newt...maybe that should be at the top of the list of what they needed to talk about.

“Oh, I see,” Bunty said, weakly, and Tina had the feeling that she understood, and that her fears had just been confirmed. 

Before things could get more awkward than they were already shaping up to be, Tina jumped a little, startled, as she felt something brush against and then take hold of her hand. Looking down, she was met with a pair of large soulful eyes, and then a furry white body materialized before her.

“Hey, Dougal,” Tina grinned, pleased to see him. She’d missed the little guy, more than she’d realized.

“You know each other?” Bunty asked in surprise. 

“We met in New York last year,” Tina grinned as she ruffled the fur on Dougal’s head. “It was a real big adventure, huh Dougal?”

Dougal nuzzled into her hand in reply, then looked up at her quizzically, eyes flashing blue for a moment, before he tugged on her hand, urging her to come with him.

“Well, I guess I’d better see what he wants,” Tina shrugged toward Bunty apologetically. “There’s food upstairs if you’d like some dinner. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Bunty seemed surprised by the invitation. “Oh, that’s very kind, but I was actually just about to leave for the day. Thank you, though.”

“Sure,” Tina nodded as she was being pulled away. “See you around.”

Bunty seemed less than thrilled by that prospect, but nodded politely. “Goodbye.”

“Okay, Dougal, okay! I’m coming!” Tina laughed as she turned to give her full attention to the insistent tugs on her hand.

She allowed herself to be pulled along through the assortment of habitats full of creatures screeching and roaring, until they turned a corner and Tina could see where Dougal was taking her. 

Newt stood in a quiet forest enclosure, his back to her. His vest was gone, his shirt was untucked, and his suspenders hung loosely against his thighs. Tina couldn’t help but stare as she realized it was the most informal (and most undressed) she’d ever seen him. He was gently stroking the giant head of the zouwu as he checked on the wounds around her neck from the chains. The creature was purring like an overgrown kitten, one massive paw wrapped around Newt as she bumped her head into his side with affection.

“Easy there,” Newt scolded without any real weight to it, laughter in his voice as he stumbled a bit before planting his feet and scratching at a spot under the zouwu’s chin. She made a trilling sound and purred even louder in response.

Tina found herself frozen to the spot, captivated by the sight of Newt in his element. Dougal had stopped, which meant she’d been right about his intent. He’d taken her to Newt.

The peaceful scene was shattered, however, as the zouwu noticed Tina’s presence. Her pupils widened and her back arched, immediately defensive. Newt spun around to see what caused the reaction, but stopped short when he took in the sight of Tina, hand in paw with Dougal. Dougal chose that moment to release her hand and scamper away, out of sight.

“Tina,” Newt breathed her name in that way that never failed to simultaneously melt and inflame her insides. His wide eyes raked over her and he opened his mouth as though to speak, but he never got the chance before the zouwu let out a low growl and swished out her tail, curling it around to flick into Tina and knock her off balance.

Newt instinctively leapt forward to catch her, and Tina found herself colliding into his chest as she stumbled. He let out a soft “oof” at the impact but stayed upright, supporting her with gentle hands on her arms.

Where her hands were splayed against his chest she could feel firm well-defined muscles - more well-defined than she’d have thought, from the way he often seemed so hunched-in on himself. From this close she noticed that the top couple of buttons of his shirt were undone, and she could see a smattering of chest hair starting at the base of his throat. The hair on his arms and the stubble on his unshaven face was light and sparse, so the patch of darker bronze visible before her was a bit unexpected. She bit her lip as she found herself wondering how extensively it covered the unseen skin under his shirt, and blushed furiously at the thought. Looking up, she found him looking down at her with an intensity in his eyes that made her shiver.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble this close to his chest. He was still supporting her weight, but one of his hands tentatively moved to gently run up and down her arm.

Tina blinked, realizing that in her dazed state caused by his (very) close proximity, she’d forgotten how to stand on her own. She quickly straightened, sure her face must be flaming. “Yeah,” she rasped with an embarrassingly husky voice.

He stepped away to give her a little space, his gaze again tracing up and down her body as he gently smiled. “I see you found the pajamas.”

She nodded in reply, once again fiddling with the sleeves of the borrowed pajamas. “Thanks. They’re nice.”

The awkward tension was broken by another growl coming from the zouwu. Newt turned to the creature and fixed her with a scolding look. “Now, that’ll be quite enough out of you, thank you! This is Tina. You know Tina.”

Tina quickly summoned the jingly toy on a stick that she’d used to lure the creature into Newt’s case and gave it a shake. The zouwu’s eyes widened and her defensive stance disappeared as all her focus became centered on the toy. Tina gave it another shake before tossing it into the air. The zouwu leapt after it, batting it out of the air and watching as it clattered to the ground. She let out a delighted chirp and pounced on the toy, then began happily batting it away and chasing after it, heading deeper into the enclosure Newt had built for her.

Tina smiled as she watched the creature. “She really is kind of just a big, strange, cat, huh?”

Newt was looking at her with a slightly awed expression. “Not everyone would think so.”

“When she feels threatened she gets defensive,” Tina shrugged, “can’t blame her for that. She’s really very gentle otherwise.”

Now Newt was outright staring, and the look in his eyes was enough to cause the burning sensation in Tina’s face and chest to return tenfold. She had to look away, overcome for a moment by emotion and the need to regroup her thoughts. She then remembered why she was there in the first place.

“Jacob made some dinner.” She looked back at him with a smile. “I came to find you and tell you it’s ready.”

“Oh,” Newt replied, sounding surprised, “That was very nice of him. I can’t imagine I had much for him to work with.” He looked down, taking stock of his disheveled appearance. “I’ll be up in a moment, I just want to tell Bunty she can clock off, and then...freshen up a bit, first.”

“Bunty’s already gone,” Tina informed him. “I met her when I came down, she said she was just leaving.”

“That’s strange,” Newt frowned. “Usually I have to practically force her to leave. She does seem to love the creatures so.”

_It’s not just the creatures she loves,_ Tina thought. It was clear from Newt’s puzzled expression that he was just as oblivious as she assumed him to be. _Oh, Newt_.

Tina only shrugged in reply, not wanting to break it to Newt just then that his assistant was carrying a torch for him. “See you in a few minutes.” And, with another gentle smile, she turned and walked back toward the basement steps.

She emerged from the basement to find that while she’d been gone Newt’s brother had arrived, and was now standing in the kitchen talking to Jacob. He looked exhausted; his face was haggard and deep circles colored the undersides of his eyes.

“Mr. Scamander,” she greeted, wondering what news he might be bearing.

He turned to her and sighed, sounding a bit exasperated. “Okay, enough of this ‘Mr. Scamander’ nonsense. You called me Theseus last night, when you practically ordered me into Newt’s case. I gave no indication that you shouldn’t continue to do so. I thought this morning maybe it was for the benefit of the other aurors, but...at this point I think you can definitely use my first name, _please_.”

“Oh,” she replied, a bit startled by his tone, but the slight, weary smile he gave her in apology took the edge off of it. “Okay. Theseus.”

“Thank you,” he sighed. “I really can’t be bothered with formalities most of the time, and that was getting tiresome.”

“Well, call me Tina, then. It seems silly to stand on formalities after everything.”

Theseus nodded.

“And call me Jacob!” Jacob piped up. “We’re all friends here, right?”

Theseus looked a little uncomfortable at that, but before he could respond, Newt, having emerged from the basement in a fresh shirt and with his suspenders back in place, came up to his brother’s side and flashed him an impish grin.

“And I absolutely insist that you call me Newt.”

“Prat,” Theseus mumbled, fixing his brother with a good-natured glare. He then looked down at his feet and sighed, lifting his head to glance at each of them. “Well, since you’re all here…”

“Wait!” Jacob cried. “Before we get down to business, everybody grab a plate! The food’s gonna get cold. Though I’m guessing one of you could just zap it with a wand and warm it up, probably, huh?”

The three of them nodded, bemused by their non-magical friend. Talking with Jacob often made Tina appreciate how much she took magic for granted sometimes. Newt, she noticed, was tilting his head quizzically as he looked at the food.

“Come to think of it, Jacob, how _did_ you manage to cook this without magic?”

“Uh...the stove?” Jacob replied, clearly confused by the question.

“Yes, but how did you turn the stove on? It takes magic to heat it up.”

Jacob looked downright flabbergasted. “It...uses gas. Newt, pal, you do know your house has a gas hookup, right?”

The expression on Newt’s face answered that he clearly did not. “It must still be from the previous occupant. This is predominantly a muggle street.”

“How do you heat the place?”

Newt lifted his wand and whispered a heating spell, and they all felt the room get slightly warmer. “It’s a simple enough charm.”

“Of course it is,” Jacob muttered. “No wonder you wizards have money made outta pure gold, you must save a fortune on utility bills.”

“What’s a...utility bill?” Theseus asked. Tina was wondering the same thing. 

Jacob stared in disbelief, blinked, then abruptly turned back to the stove. “You’re gonna find out, since I used the gas,” he mumbled as he scooped food onto plates.

Newt and Theseus had never had hash browns before, but Theseus nodded approvingly with his mouth stuffed full, and Newt proclaimed them similar to something he’d once had in Switzerland. The four of them made the food disappear with gusto, famished from having slept through lunch.

When the plates were cleared and sent to the sink to begin washing themselves, Theseus sat back in his chair and sighed.

“So,” he began, “I have news, and you’re not going to like most of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh. Someone give Theseus a hug, quick, before he puts them in a bad mood.
> 
> Until the day comes that we might finally get shirtless Newt in all his muscle-bound, scarred glory, I'm going to go with the headcanon/assumption that Newt's various facial and body hair (or lack thereof) resembles an unshaved/unwaxed/unwhatevered Eddie Redmayne. So. Chest fuzz peeking out of shirts, and a very slow-growing and patchy beard. Perhaps I've put too much thought into this, but I just wanted Tina's brain to temporarily shut down at the very notion of thinking about the possibilities of what's hidden under Newt's shirt. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Next chapter will be Newt's POV.


	3. Chapter 3

“First of all,” Theseus began, his expression sour, “I’ve been given a mandatory three week berevement leave. They tried to make it a month, but I managed to talk them down a week. So, if you need me…” he opened his arms in a gesture that said ‘here I am.’ Newt wasn’t altogether very close with his brother, but he knew Theseus wouldn’t take idleness well. He would want to work to catch the bastard who had killed Leta, not sit around mourning and doing nothing.

“Now, as for _you_,” he turned to Newt, and Newt looked down, unable to meet his brother’s piercing eyes. He’d known this moment was coming from the second he’d bought that portkey. It was worth it though, he thought, probably. Theseus sighed. “They’re _furious_ with you for blatantly violating your travel ban. There was talk of _Azkaban_, Newt, what were you _thinking_?”

He couldn’t help but glance over at Tina, whose eyes had widened at the mention of Azkaban, before quickly glancing away again. “I…”

“Nevermind,” Theseus held up his hand and sighed. “As furious as they are, they’re equally furious, or perhaps frustrated, that once again you and your creatures were instrumental in minimizing Grindelwald’s threat. They can’t very well throw you in Azkaban when you might’ve indirectly provided the key to his defeat, can they?”

This surprised Newt. From his brother’s warning about not liking his news, he’d assumed the worst. Was he going to manage to skirt by the law yet again? He hadn’t actually _done_ anything noteworthy, it was just a case of a curious niffler being in the right place at the right time. Or the _wrong_ place, depending on how you looked at it. He imagined the niffler would see it that way.

“In fact…” Theseus continued, and Newt immediately understood where this was going.

“No.” He lifted his chin and looked his brother straight in the eye.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say -”

“Were you about to say anything other than how the Ministry would like me to use my talents with beasts in the fight against whatever Grindelwald has planned?”

Theseus’ mouth snapped shut.

“No,” Newt repeated, defiant. “It’s the same thing I said during the war, but I was young and without any influence or other course of action then. I may not have much more influence now, but I’m older and a lot more stubborn. I won’t _use _my creatures in a war they have nothing to do with.”

“I thought you said you’d chosen your side?” Theseus countered.

“I have. I’ll fight, and I’ll do whatever I can to help, but I won’t force my creatures to join me, and I certainly won’t do it because the Ministry demands it. They aren’t tools or machines to be used and discarded. I don’t command or control them, and despite what people think most of them are not tame. We have a mutual trust and respect that means they sometimes help me, but I won’t take advantage of that and risk their lives for an entirely _human_ conflict. Not again. Not after what happened to those dragons...” Newt trailed off, not wanting to relive his time in the war.

Theseus sighed, but there wasn’t anger in his eyes. “I told them you’d say as much. But I also told them I’d ask you to think about it. So,” he said, holding out his hands in a gesture of openness, “this is me asking you to think about it.”

“I’ve thought about it. My answer is no.” Newt shifted his eyes back down to the table, the burst of conviction overwhelming him a little.

Theseus nodded. “I’ll tell them, but don’t expect them to let it drop that easily.”

Newt snorted. “Of course not.” Feeling suddenly weary, he studied the wood grain pattern on the table as he asked, “So if I don’t agree to do as the Ministry wishes, what’s my punishment to be, then?” He lifted his eyes to look up through the curtain of his hair when he heard his brother sigh yet again. _He looks exhausted_, Newt thought, feeling a little bit bad for reacting so sharply.

“You’re on a sort of...probation, essentially,” Theseus fixed him with the scolding look that Newt knew all too well. “Your travel ban remains indefinitely, and you’re to check in with me at least weekly. There are also certain...other measures...that will be put in place to enforce it.”

“What other…” Newt started, but his brother cut him off again.

“I’ll get to that in a minute.” Theseus turned to Tina and his expression softened a bit.

When he didn’t immediately begin speaking, Tina’s face took on a grave look. “You found something out, didn’t you? Does MACUSA want me to report back officially or…” she trailed off, looking unsure of how to finish her sentence.

“Actually, they don’t want you back at all.”

“What…?” Tina’s eyes widened.

“At least, not yet,” Theseus clarified. “I know you asked me to just keep an ear open and not go digging around, but the Ministry is refusing to actually give me much to do right now, so I made a few inquiries on your behalf. You know, you’re not very high up on MACUSA’s good list right now. They aren’t at all happy that you went to Paris against orders -”

“It wasn’t against orders,” Tina insisted, cutting him off. “They denied my request to investigate the reports that Credence might’ve been seen in Paris, so I took some time off and went to find him on my own. That’s not violating orders. I just...didn’t go in any sort of official capacity, is all.”

Theseus was giving her the same exasperated look that Newt had seen aimed at himself many, many times. “And yet you were running around Paris investigating, officially or not, and MACUSA is not happy about it, semantics aside. Clearly my brother has been a bad influence on you.”

Newt couldn’t help the way his lips twitched into a smile at that. Tina was glaring, her eyes alight, and she looked _stunning_.

“Now,” Theseus continued, “As I’m sure you know, MACUSA has been on heightened security since Grindelwald’s escape. Anyone going in or out of the building has to be thoroughly scanned and questioned to rule out any concealment charms or use of polyjuice.” He glared at Newt as he said the last part. “Up until now Grindelwald has been pretty quiet, but In response to his little demonstration in Paris they’re heightening security even more. They are essentially on lockdown - nobody is granted entrance except for essential personnel, and considering that you, Tina, were in direct proximity to Grindelwald, and considering that your sister has defected to his side, they really, really don’t want you to come anywhere near MACUSA headquarters for the time being. They don’t even want you to return to the United States. In fact, you’re currently banned from doing so.”

Tina was staring at Theseus in shock. “I can’t go home?”

“Not just yet, no.” He glanced over at Newt before looking back at Tina again. “MACUSA wants you to give your report to their liaison here, which you can do tomorrow, but you’re suspended from active auror duties, effective immediately. You are _also_ effectively on probation, of sorts. As head auror, I’ve become responsible for you while you remain in Britain, and you’ll be required to check in with me regularly. And,” he sighed, “you’re also to be given the same extra security measures as Newt.”

Now they were both staring at him warily.

“Which are…” Tina prodded.

“The Ministry is willing to tentatively trust Dumbledore and work with him, but they want to follow up on any lead he might have by sending our aurors who are trained in this sort of thing, _not_ by letting him use his friends to plan things behind the MInistry’s back.” Theseus reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two round metal bands. “These are to be worn around your wrist at all times. Each of you get one. They won’t keep track of spells or magical use, there’s no need to monitor you to that degree, but they WILL prevent you from leaving Great Britain by any means. No apparating, no portkeys, no boats, no flying creatures -” he pointedly looked at Newt - “nothing. If you try to leave this island, these will stop you short. I’ve been told the rebound effects are unpleasant, so I wouldn’t test it if I were you.”

Newt looked at Tina and found her looking back at him. His punishment was entirely expected, but hers? Tina loved being an auror, and was damn good at it. To be suspended and not allowed to leave a country that wasn’t hers...that must be devastating. And yet, he watched as she held out her wrist with a huff, accepting the restrictions her superiors had put on her with flaming eyes and steadfast resolution. Her relationship to the law was a conundrum to him - often conflicting as it was - but he adored her and her own particular set of self-enforced rules. Following her example, he held out his own wrist without protest.

Theseus snapped the bands in place, each one glowing with a hum of magic as they sealed together seamlessly. Well then. He was well and truly stuck here.

“What about Queenie?” he heard Tina ask in a small voice, all the fight gone out of her. “Did you hear anything about her?”

Theseus winced in pained sympathy as he met Tina’s eyes. “Your sister is wanted in connection to Grindelwald, as you no doubt suspected. If she’s so much as seen she’s to be detained by any means necessary.”

Tina’s eyes filled with tears as she hung her head, but the choked sob that broke the silence didn’t come from her, but from Jacob.

“Oh, Queenie,” he sighed as he exchanged a long look with Tina. Newt knew they were each blaming themselves, but he was at a loss as to what to say that would make the situation any easier on either of them.

“As for you, Mr. Kowalski,” Theseus continued, “MACUSA’s not exactly pleased to learn that you didn’t remain obliviated. However, as a muggle you don’t fall under their jurisdiction, and since our laws are much more lax about muggle relations, you’re free to do as you please while you remain here. If you were to return to the States and they found out about it though, you’ll promptly be obliviated again - properly this time.

“I ain’t going anywhere without Queenie,” Jacob stated with conviction. Theseus nodded.

“Well then,” he said, standing, “Now that I’ve ruined everyone’s day, I’m going to go back to my thoroughly depressing flat, get good and drunk, pass out from exhaustion, and hopefully wake up to find that all of this was a bad dream.”

“Would you care if I joined you?” Newt found himself blurting out before he could think better of it. His brother’s cavalier attitude toward his obvious grief alarmed him, if he was honest.

Theseus’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “Since when do we drink together?”

“Since when have you asked me?” Newt countered.

His brother stared at him for a moment, and then shrugged. “Fair point.” He slid on his coat. “Fine. Come by anytime, I’ll be home.” With a nod toward all of them, he walked out the door.

Tina’s eyes were fixed on the now closed door with concern. “He’s not doing so well, is he?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Newt said, frowning. “I’m sorry, Tina. About...everything.”

“It’s a lot to process,” she said, voice flat but eyes full of sadness. “I hadn’t even planned on going home right away unless they ordered it, but to know that I _can’t_...well.” She shrugged. He understood all too well the strange spark of rebellion that came from being told not to do the thing you were already planning not to do. “I thought I might have to break the law to stay here. Turns out I’d break the law if I left. And now I can’t even go searching for Queenie or Credence…” she glared at the band on her wrist and sighed. “I guess that’s not how I figured our check in with your brother would go.”

“Neither did I,” Newt said, truthfully. “Though I’m happy to have avoided incarceration. Being in prison makes it much more difficult to get anything done.” He smiled flatly, a little apologetically, knowing wry humor wasn’t really what they needed now but falling back on it out of habit. Tina’s watery smile let him know she understood.

“You, um, are of course welcome to stay here for as long as you need to. Both of you,” he turned to Jacob as well. “Which reminds me, Jacob - you don’t actually have to sleep on the sofa. There are two rooms upstairs that you’re welcome to. Neither of them has a bed, but…”

“We’ll transfigure something,” Tina assured him with a smile. “You should go be with your brother.”

“Right,” he sighed, standing. “Um, I may not be back tonight. Probably not, in fact. I don’t actually intend to drink much, that was more of an excuse than anything. I just...don’t want to leave him alone tonight.”

“Of course,” Tina nodded. “Take care of him. Take care of yourself. We’ll be here when you get back - it’s not like I can go anywhere anyway.”

Newt frowned, but held her eyes. “Please make yourselves at home.” He put on his coat and adjusted his scarf, then stood with one hand on the doorknob. “Nobody in the basement should need anything for the rest of the night, but if you go down there please do be careful.”

“We’ll be fine, Newt” Jacob clapped him on the back. “Go on. Have a drink for me, will ya?”

Newt nodded and smiled at his muggle friend, then turned to Tina and held her gaze. After trying so hard to get to New York to see her, then tracking her down in Paris, and only having had the previous night to really spend any time alone with her, he found that he was very reluctant to want to leave her side. But he knew his brother might need him, even if their relationship had never been all that close. Before he could change his mind, he ripped his eyes away from Tina’s and walked out the door.

* * *

“I didn’t think you drank anything but butterbeer,” Theseus commented as he refilled Newt’s glass of elf-made wine and poured himself another tumbler of firewhiskey.

“I don’t, usually,” Newt shrugged from the opposite end of the sofa. “To be honest I don’t care for the taste of anything too strong. But I have been known to indulge in some good wine, on occasion.”

“Well, maybe I might’ve known that if you’d ever taken up our offer to come to dinner,” he snapped, the alcohol or the exhaustion or a combination of the two making him testy.

Newt looked down at his glass. He really had no response to that.

“I’m sorry,” Theseus sighed as he flopped back against the sofa cushions. “That was...uncalled for. I know you hadn’t meant to be difficult. I know it hadn’t been easy to see us together.”

“That’s not - “ Newt protested, but Theseus cut him off.

“I know it wasn’t jealousy. Nothing as simple as that. But I could tell that it hurt you, the way she just showed up back into your life, engaged to me, and acting like there hadn’t been years of silence between you.”

“Well,” he smiled sadly, “Leta had never been very good at apologies.”

“No,” Theseus sighed. “It wasn’t pride or stubbornness, though she had that in spades,” they both smiled fondly. “It was...well, Leta never liked to appear weak. Even when there was nothing to fear.”

“Creatures raised without love rarely do,” Newt replied softly, looking at his glass instead of at his brother.

A silence settled between them for a moment, before Theseus’ croaking whisper broke it. “I’m going to miss her so much. It hasn’t really hit me, that she’s gone.”

It hadn’t hit Newt yet, either, but his feelings regarding Leta were a muddled mess. As he’d told Tina last night in his case (_had that really only been last night?)_, he sort of felt as though he’d already mourned her loss years ago. Losing her all over again hurt in a way he couldn’t describe, but they hadn’t been close in a very long time. It was a duller sort of pain, less raw, than what he knew his brother must be feeling over losing the woman he’d been about to marry.

“She talked about you, you know,” Theseus told him, interrupting his thoughts. Newt looked up at that. “Every so often she’d tell a story about something the two of you got up to in school. She would laugh as she recalled those times, but there was always a sadness in her eyes. She regretted hurting you. I think you may have been the first person to ever show her kindness just for kindness’ sake.”

Newt looked back down, feeling the weight of that statement. He knew it was likely true, but it hurt to think of what life had been like for Leta with a father who despised her and no friends except for him - the odd and annoying boy with all the animals. “I never found it particularly difficult to show her kindness,” he said honestly. He took a drink of his wine and found his glass empty again.

“No, neither did I,” Theseus sighed as he reached over and handed Newt the wine bottle. Newt took it and refilled his glass. He should probably stop--he could feel the warm fuzziness of the alcohol in his stomach and knew it was beginning to affect his head--but he couldn’t think of a single reason why it mattered if he got a little tipsy tonight.

“At least she let you know that she cared, right before she…” Theseus trailed off as he took another swig of whiskey, unable to finish the sentence out loud.

Newt’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“She told you she loved you. She was looking right at you, Newt.”

_What? Did he really think…? _ “No, she was looking at _you_. You’re her fiancé, why would she say ‘I love you’ to _me?_

“Because you didn’t know,” Theseus insisted. “She said it to me every day. It was you who she needed to tell.”

“But...that doesn’t…” Newt frowned, thinking. It didn’t make sense to him, but how well had he really known her these past ten or so years? Maybe Theseus was right, maybe she had felt that he’d needed to know she was apologetic for the years of silence between them. “Well,” he conceded, “maybe she was talking to both of us.”

“Maybe,” Theseus sighed, “but I also think you underestimate the impact you had on her life.” He drained his glass and clunked it down on the coffee table a little clumsily. “Merlin’s bloody beard, Newt, did you even think that maybe it was _you_ who she learned about selfless acts from?”

“I…” Newt opened and closed his mouth, unable to form words for a moment. “What are you talking about?”

His brother laughed, but it was a rough, choked sound. “What did you think I thought the rift between you two was caused by? Did you think she didn’t tell me the real reason you got expelled? That you took the blame for her? _Merlin_, Newt, you let us all think...Father was so disappointed in you. Did he ever even know it wasn’t your fault before he died?”

Newt hung his head, unable to look his brother in the eye. “It wasn’t anyone’s business but my own,” he said in a low voice. “Nobody needed to know.”

“It was Leta’s business too. She resented you so much for that, you know. She never would have asked it of you. She was furious.”

Now it was Newt’s turn to choke out a bitter laugh. “Well, yes, the months of unanswered letters did give me a clue that she was. Even I eventually know how to take a hint.”

Theseus tipped his head back and took a swig straight from the whiskey bottle, having forgone a glass entirely some time ago. “She was also ashamed. That’s why she never returned your letters. Even after the anger’d worn off I think so much time had passed that she just didn’t know how to reach out to you again. What do you say to something like that? ‘Thanks for ruining your life for my sake when I never asked you to’?”

“It hardly ruined my life,” Newt sighed. “They let me keep my wand. I was close enough to graduation that I was allowed to go back and take my exams. No harm came from it, except that I lost my friend.”

“Well I guess she paid you back, in the end.”

“Don’t say that.” Newt choked back a pained sob. “Don’t...you _can’t_ think…?”

“What? That maybe it was you who showed her what it means to put others before yourself? True Hufflepuff loyalty?” He sighed. “I don’t blame you, if that’s what you think. It would all be easier if I could. But she never thought she was good enough—for you, for me, for this whole bloody world that she couldn’t see was brighter because she was in it—and I know that in some twisted sort of logic she saw taking on Grindelwald—_dying_, even—as a way to try to make things even for what happened to her brother. So I know it wasn’t all about you.” He closed his eyes and hung his head, looking completely defeated. “But you were also a friend to her when she had no one else. You showed her what it meant to be cared for, and how to accept it, and I can’t find it in me to resent you for that.”

Silence settled over them again, as Theseus found the bottom of the whiskey bottle and Newt stared at his wine glass.

“I wanted to tell you,” Theseus broke the silence, now sounding more than a bit drowsy. “About us, I mean. I wasn’t sure how you’d take it, but I thought you should know, and I was so..._happy_. But Leta thought we should wait until you were back in the country rather than announce something like that in a letter, and I agreed. It sounded like a reasonable idea at the time. I really didn’t mean to blindside you that way. I can’t imagine…” he snorted. “‘Welcome back from a year of traveling the world! While you were gone I started seeing your childhood sweetheart and we’re engaged now!’ What a welcome home that must’ve been.”

Newt smiled, weakly. “It was a surprise, but it wasn’t…” he sighed. “I wasn’t upset. Not really. If anything I...well, I suppose I somewhat resented the way she, as you said, wanted to act like no time had even passed. She was suddenly back, smiling and talking like she hadn’t ignored me for years. And then you kept inviting me for dinner, and, well, it was all a little bit...difficult.” _And rather than face you both and make an honest attempt to rekindle a friendship, I was stubborn and evasive_, he thought, but didn’t say it out loud. “But I wasn’t envious or resentful of you, if that’s what either of you feared.”

“No. I think we both worried that you’d never quite gotten over it—” Newt winced internally at that, because up until about a year ago it would’ve been an accurate assessment “—but when you came back from your travels I could see that you’d changed somewhat.” Theseus grinned at him, a glint in his eye that had nothing to do with intoxication. “And, having met your Miss Goldstein, I think I know the reason.”

Newt felt his face flush in a way that wasn’t entirely due to alcohol. “Thee…”

“Ha!” his brother laughed. “Now I know I’m right. You haven’t called me ‘Thee’ since you were ten years old.” His expression turned a little more serious, though the playful glint was still in his eye. “I like her, your Tina. How did you manage to meet such a wonderfully bossy woman?”

“She’s not…” Newt protested, but the look in his brother’s eye told him he was still teasing. “Actually,” he said, unable to help the smile that pulled his lips, “she arrested me.”

Theseus barked out a dry laugh. “Of course she did. At least she didn’t tie you to a chair.”

Newt grinned at the memory. “That was bloody brilliant, wasn’t it?”

“For you maybe,” Theseus snorted. “My pride might never recover.” He looked hard at Newt, tilting his head slightly as he regarded him seriously. “I assume she’s the reason you wanted your travel ban lifted so badly?”

“Not...the _only_ reason, but...yes,” Newt dropped his head. “I made her a promise, you see. That I’d deliver a copy of my book to her in person. I intended to follow through, because,” his voice dropped to almost a whisper, “I very much wanted to see her again.”

Theseus “hmm”d in sympathy. “Why didn’t you just say that? At least to me? You know they thought you were sneaking around on Dumbledore’s orders - you could have just said it was to meet a...friend.”

Newt narrowed his eyes, incredulous. “Because my personal life is none of the bloody Ministry’s business. And, regardless, do you honestly think that would’ve worked? That anyone in the Ministry—yourself included—would believe that I had...a _friend_?” He put emphasis on the word, mocking the euphemistic way that Theseus had used it. He was aware of the rumors and whispered comments about him - everything from the usual mild observations that he was strange and annoying, to the more lewd insinuations about his relationship with his beasts. Nobody would have believed there was a woman in New York who he was not only interested in but who would actually want to see him.

Theseus regarded him with a look Newt couldn’t decipher. “I don’t know about the rest of the Ministry, but I think I would have believed you, if only because I don’t imagine it’s the sort of excuse you’d make up. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard you _mention_ a woman before.”

There hadn’t _been_ a woman before, but Theseus didn’t know that, and he found himself feeling somewhat offended by his brother’s casual dismissal of any potential social life he might have. “Yes, well. We don’t exactly talk, do we?”

“We’re talking right now, aren’t we? You know, it’s not so bad. We should do this more often. Without the mourning, I mean.”

Newt said nothing, just looked back down at the wine he was slowly swirling in his glass. His head was definitely fuzzy and muddled now, but he wasn’t far enough gone not to know to slow down. He was, however, far enough gone not to _care_ that he knew he should slow down, so he took another generous drink.

Theseus was still looking at him, his eyes heavy-lidded and glassy from the amount of whiskey he’d downed. “I haven’t always been the best brother to you, have I.” It wasn’t a question.

Newt looked up and opened his mouth, but realized he had no idea what to say to such a statement. “Theseus…”

“No,” his brother held up a hand to stop whatever mollifying rubbish he’d been about to make up. “I know I haven’t. I always wanted what was best for you; always tried to be the exemplary older brother—” Newt was impressed that he could both recall and pronounce the word ‘exemplary’ in his state “—but I never really listened to you, or tried to understand you. I’m starting to realize that maybe what I think is best isn’t necessarily what’s best for _you_.” Theseus smiled, a more genuine smile than Newt had seen aimed at him in years. “I’m really proud of you, Newt, and not just because of your book’s success. You really are doing all right.”

It wasn’t, perhaps, the best speech he’d heard from his brother, and there was a slight note of condescension that Newt could’ve done without - but it was better than another lecture, and it was still a surprising and welcome bit of affirmation. He felt tears well up in his eyes despite his efforts to hold them back, and quickly blinked them away. Newt had never quite felt that Theseus regarded him as an equal, or even, sometimes, as an _adult_, so he tried his best not to pick apart the apology or the compliment and take them at face value instead. It wasn’t something he really wanted to address tonight, however.

“You’re drunk,” Newt replied with an awkward smile, trying to dismiss the comments and turn the subject away from himself.

“I am,” Theseus confirmed, grinning. “It’s still true though.”

Newt didn’t know what else to say, so he downed the last of his wine instead, frowning at the way his vision slightly blurred and wavered in a way that wasn’t due to emotion. He’d definitely reached the point where he would classify himself as ‘intoxicated.’ He was just so _tired_, and the alcohol made the exhaustion feel heavy but pleasant, like he could just float away. It was a better sort of tired than how he’d been feeling these past few days, and he decided to embrace it.

“Merlin, I’m tired,” Theseus sighed, echoing Newt’s thoughts. He set the whiskey bottle down on the floor by the sofa and lifted his feet to curl himself more comfortably into the cushions, settling in. “You can take the bed if you stay. I can’t sleep there - too many memories.”

Newt felt his face flush at the implication, and he looked anywhere but at his brother.

Theseus choked out a pained sob. “I never even got to spend the night with her.” At that, Newt looked up in surprise, morbid curiosity warring with embarrassment in his head. “I mean, not to say that we didn’t…” he made a vague hand-waving gesture toward the direction of the bedroom, “we had dinner together most nights. Dinner and...other things, sometimes. But she always left by a respectable time, saying that marrying her was already raising enough eyebrows in upper-crust wizarding society, and she’d not tarnish my reputation further. Fine upstanding young Head Aurors didn’t spend the night with a woman before marriage, she’d said, and I bloody well agreed.” He snorted. “What a load of bollocks. What I wouldn’t give to have just one night of sleeping in her arms...one morning waking up to her beautiful face.”

Newt looked away again, feeling like he was invading on private thoughts that his brother wouldn’t be sharing were he not in a drunken state.

“Don’t wait too long with Tina, Newt.” Theseus was fixing him with a serious look when he dragged his eyes back up to his brother’s face. “If you care about her—if you love her—tell her. Grab ahold of each other and don’t let go.”

Newt knew he’d gone beetroot. He’d barely had a spare moment to try to sort out his feelings for Tina since they’d confessed to caring about one another, and it was still very, very new. Letters aside, in total they’d really only spent a little over a week of time in each other’s company. “It...might be a bit early for that, just yet,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“Maybe,” Theseus conceded. “But just...don’t waste too much time tiptoeing around each other trying to figure it out.”

Silence fell over them once more as Newt put his now-empty glass down and settled into the sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He could get up and go lie down on the bed, but the thought made him slightly uncomfortable considering what Theseus had just revealed, and his limbs felt too heavy to move all of a sudden. He was comfortable enough where he was and couldn’t seem to find much point in getting up.

“I think I might go visit Mum,” Theseus’ voice startled Newt a bit. He’d thought his brother had drifted off to sleep in the silence. “I’m being forced to take time off, and I don’t want to spend it sitting around here. This time of year Mum’ll need extra help with the ‘griffs, keeping the stables warm and mucked out, and I could use a little manual labor, I think. She did always say one of the best ways to shovel shit out of your head was to shovel shit out of the barn.”

Newt smiled fondly at one of their mother’s more colorful sayings. “She wasn’t wrong - I currently have a very clean suitcase and basement that proves it.”

Theseus laughed weakly. “The travel ban gave you that much stress?”

“Not _just_ the travel ban,” Newt frowned. “Tina hadn’t responded to my last letter. I was getting worried, especially since she’s an auror. I kept checking the papers for any mention of her name, or anything about an attack or raid and aurors being hurt or…” he didn’t want to finish that thought or sentence. He hadn’t really reached a state of extreme worry yet before Queenie and Jacob had shown up in his house and explained, but he’d been desperate to know she was alive and well. “It turns out it was a misunderstanding because of a stupid magazine article that mistakingly named _me_ as Leta’s fiancé instead of you. Tina was upset. She knew there was history between Leta and I, and I suppose...well, I suppose she thought I had misled her, or that she’d misjudged my intentions, and she...felt very foolish. And angry.”

“Well I’d imagine,” Theseus huffed. “You should write to that magazine and demand they sack whatever moron wrote that article. Make them print a retraction at least. Though I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore,” he mumbled, then groaned and ground the heels of his hands into his tired eyes. “I just realized I’m going to have to write an obituary. And arrange a funeral. I...can’t do this.”

“I’ll help,” Newt volunteered meekly. “Tell me what to say and I’ll write the obituary.”

“You’d be better at it than I would,” Theseus agreed. “You know, on second thought, hang the funeral. I can count on one hand the number of people who actually cared about her beyond her family name. We don’t need it to be some bloody society event.”

Newt silently agreed, but could see his brother was becoming more upset thinking about it. “We can worry about this tomorrow, Theseus. Go to sleep.”

“Okay, _mum_,” Theseus mocked while snickering, but he obediently closed his eyes. Newt pulled the decorative blanket off the back of the couch and threw it at him with a smile, feigning annoyance. Without opening his eyes Theseus balled it up and shoved it under his head as a makeshift pillow, and seemed to fall asleep almost immediately.

Newt closed his own eyes, which all of a sudden felt impossibly heavy, and sighed, wondering how much he’d regret the wine in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I got stuck and struggled with it for some reason, and I think I could probably stare at it for another few weeks and still not be entirely happy with it. But I'd rather move on with the story than do that, so here it is.
> 
> I know the pace is going very slow right now, but there's a lot I want these characters to say to each other in order to move on and set up the story. Eventually they're actually going to do something other than talk, I promise.
> 
> Next chapter will have a little reprieve for Newt and Tina.


	4. Chapter 4

Newt slowly peeled his eyes open and immediately wished he was still asleep. His head was pounding, his back was aching from the awkward position he’d fallen asleep in, and his mouth tasted like a flobberworm and a puffskein had fought inside it and both lost. Something was pressing into the side of his face, and he turned to find it was Theseus’ bare foot. He must’ve yanked his socks off in his sleep. Newt slapped the foot away with a half-numb arm, hissing at the sting of pins and needles in his hand. Theseus mumbled something unintelligible and tucked his legs back up as he curled into the sofa, still deeply asleep.

Groaning, he stood and stretched, then winced as a wave of nausea hit him. He hadn’t had _that_ much to drink, but as unused to it as he was it shouldn’t really have surprised him that getting even a little bit drunk would make for an unpleasant morning. He frowned as he considered how much whiskey Theseus had finished off, and knew his brother would be in a far worse state than himself when he woke. He hadn’t had the foresight to bring along a few potions to help deal with hangovers, and a quick survey of Theseus’ cupboards only yielded a dusty cauldron that likely hadn’t seen much use and a few herbs that looked long-expired. A trip to the apothecary was in order, then. He’d pop out, get some ginger root for nausea and herbs to soothe headaches, and start a potion brewing for Theseus when he woke up. Then he’d go back home. Back to Tina.

Even with the English weather’s propensity toward overcast gloominess, Newt found himself squinting outside as he headed toward the apothecary. When he walked through the door the proprietor took one look at him and grinned. “Good night last night?”

Newt frowned, not at all in the mood. “The opposite, actually,” he replied, not quite managing to keep a tinge of irritation out of his voice.

“Hmm. Not another big party for your book, then? I just saw in the paper that it’s sold a hundred thousand copies.”

Had it? Newt hadn’t heard, but as mind-boggling as that was, his first emotion was annoyance at once again being known. Merlin’s _bollocks_ was he ever going to have a shred of anonymity ever again? His publisher had implored him to make an effort with the general public though, so he grit his teeth and tried to smile. Were he able to see himself though, he was certain it’d look more like a grimace. “No. Not a party. More like a wake.” Leta’s death hadn’t hit the papers yet, so he couldn’t blame the man for not knowing, but he also didn’t feel like announcing the news himself so he left his comment at that.

The shopkeeper’s grin fell, and was replaced with a sympathetic look. “Oh. Sorry to hear that. At any rate, you look like you could use something to clear away the remnants of last night, eh?”

“Yes,” Newt replied, a little testily. “I’m just going to get some ingredients and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Weeell, I _could_ sell you all the individual ingredients and you could brew your own potions...OR you could try this.” He pulled a potion bottle out from underneath the counter and presented it for Newt’s inspection. “My patented hangover cure—well, patent-pending—but guaranteed to fix up all the unpleasant symptoms in a jiffy.”

Newt took the bottle to read the hand-made label. He was skeptical, but a quick survey of the ingredients told him this was similar to whatever he’d brew on his own.

As if reading his thoughts, the shopkeeper added, “All-natural ingredients—nothing in there you couldn’t grow or buy on your own—but the proportions and brew times are a proprietary secret, you understand.”

Newt’s eyes widened when he saw the price, a reaction which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Convenience doesn’t come cheap, but it’s worth it, mate. Instant relief without hours of brewing!”

Well. He had a point. He could buy a couple bottles of this, take one for himself and leave one with Theseus, and then, feeling better, he’d have the time and energy to run a few more errands before returning home. _And the sooner you’d get back to Tina_, the little voice inside his head whispered. Well, why not? He had the money.

Newt paid for the potions and immediately popped the cork off of one, downing it in one long drink. Almost instantly he began to feel relief. His head felt clearer and his stomach stopped churning, and the world seemed to get a little less bright and loud.

The shopkeeper was looking at him a little anxiously. “Better? No...side effects?”

“No…” Newt replied, now very cautious. “Should there be?”

“No no, no...no. Just that, well, a veeeery small percentage of folks who’ve tried it have reported a tiny little side effect.”

“Which is…” Newt glared at the man warily.

“Sneezing.”

“Sneezing? Well that doesn’t sound so b-”

“That spontaneously conjures newts.”

Newt closed his mouth from where he’d been cut off mid-sentence and stared. The shopkeeper grinned and chuckled nervously. “I’m sorry,” Newt said, “But..._what?_”

“The person sneezes, and a newt appears. They don’t sneeze ‘em up or anything, mind, it just…’poof!’ appears. Lasts for a few hours. No idea why. It’s not so bad, if you ask me...I mean, free newts, right? Anyway, looks like you’re all clear.”

Newt had entirely no idea what to say to that. He finally settled on, “well, for your sake, I hope my brother is as lucky.” And with that, he left the shop.

Theseus was still sleeping when Newt returned. He left the potion bottle on the coffee table with a note to drink it. Then, after looking at his sleeping brother for a moment, he added to the note, mentioning that he should stop by Newt’s later for dinner if he was feeling up to it. Newt wanted to try to make a sincere effort with Theseus—an effort which, he acknowledged, was a long time coming. But if Theseus was going to try, then so would he.

Newt arrived back at his house late in the morning, after stopping to do a little shopping and restock his cupboards. If he was going to have guests, it was only polite to be able to feed them.

He stepped through the door to find that the house was quiet, so he set the groceries to putting themselves away and wandered down into the basement to find Bunty.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs a loud laugh rang out from somewhere deep in the basement. _Jacob_. Following the sound of voices, Newt came upon a scene that warmed his heart. Jacob was being climbed on by all four of the baby nifflers, as he and Bunty desperately tried to round them up. Neither of them seemed frustrated by the antics of the little ones, though, if their smiles were anything to go by. A shimmer in the air near Jacob’s leg revealed that Dougal was there as well, but whether it was to help reign in the nifflers or to be close to Jacob wasn’t certain. The demiguise had developed a certain fondness for the muggle in the short while they’d known each other in New York, and it was clear that Dougal remembered him.

“Hey Newt!” Jacob called out as he noticed him approaching.

“Jacob,” Newt nodded in greeting, grinning. “You look like you’ve got your hands full.”

Jacob laughed, grabbing at a niffler that was trying to fish some change out of his pocket. “These little guys sure do have a lot of energy. Do they ever wear themselves out?”

“Oh,” he smiled, “eventually...but usually only after they’ve worn _you_ out.”

Newt glanced around, searching for the person he was most hoping to see. “Is, um, Tina…?” he shoved his hands in his pockets as his eyes darted around, trying to appear casual and nonchalant with his question. Jacob wasn’t fooled at all, if his knowing grin was any indication.

“Nah, she went to the Ministry to meet with the American guy and give her report.”

“Oh,” Newt replied, startled. “Already? I had hoped to go with her. For, um...support.”

“Said she wanted to get it over with,” Jacob shrugged, giving Newt a small, sympathetic, smile. “I don’t think any of us expected you back anytime early this morning, and she looked like a nervous wreck before she left. I get why she wanted it out of the way.”

New frowned and looked at his shoes, hands still shoved deep in his pockets. “Oh,” he said again in a small voice.

“Hey,” Jacob soothed, sidling up to lightly clap him on the shoulder, “Newt, buddy, it’s okay. She wasn’t upset or nothin’ that you weren’t here—I don’t think she figured you’d go with her anyway.”

“But you said she was a nervous wreck. I didn’t want her to have to face an inquiry alone, especially in an unfamiliar Ministry in an unfamiliar city.”

“Tina can handle it,” Jacob assured, “though I know you already know that. Just like you know she’d give you an earful if you suggested otherwise.”

“Hex me, more like,” Newt smiled, letting his mind wander to how beautiful Tina looked when she was riled up and justifiably angry. He...probably shouldn’t ever mention it to her. But he also knew that Tina had a tender, vulnerable side that she didn’t like strangers to see, and it pained him to think of her facing the Ministry alone. He hadn’t expected to join her when she gave her report, but he’d wanted her to know that someone was waiting for her and supporting her. “I know Tina is extremely capable,” he sighed, “but she’s still hurting, and she’s...a little bit afraid, I think. So am I. I wanted to be there with her.”

“Aw,” Jacob sympathized as he thumped Newt on the back (a tad too firmly, perhaps). “It’ll be okay. She’ll be back soon, and you two can talk about it. I think she’d rather talk to you alone, ya know?”

Newt looked up, surprised at that. He’d hoped Tina would be comfortable enough with him to talk about everything upsetting her, but to hear Jacob confirm that of the two of them he alone had that honor was...well. Was he a horrible person for feeling a little bit good about that?

His thoughts were broken as one of the niffler babies scampered down Jacob’s arm and onto Newt’s shoulder, where it then proceeded to climb down his braces to investigate the shiny clasp. A bill full of sharp little teeth began to nibble at the fabric around it in an attempt to free the bit of metal.

“Oi!” Newt scolded as he expertly snatched up the niffler and held the little pest at eye level. “None of that! Your brother already chewed the buttons off my coat once, I’ll not have you lot destroying every bit of clothing I own, thank you!”

All he got in response was an innocent squeak and a wide-eyed look. Blast it, but the little scoundrels were adorable, and they knew it. He couldn’t help but give the little troublemaker a scratch under the chin, which it happily accepted.

Bunty came up to him to take the little niffler off his hands, and he noticed there was a certain...hollowness...to her expression. She looked sad. “Is everything all right, Bunty?”

“Yes, Newt,” she replied, smiling in a way that didn’t reach her eyes. “Everything’s fine. I’m glad you got to spend some time with your brother.” She wasn’t quite looking at him, but that wasn’t entirely unusual for Bunty. “I’d best get these little ones back to their nest.” She looked down to where she was cradling the other three nifflers in her apron. They’d tired of playing and were now fast asleep.

Before Bunty could walk away, a familiar chirp sounded from her pocket. Newt looked down to see a rather irate bowtruckle climbing up her dress to perch on her shoulder, chattering non-stop.

“Really now, Pickett, I wasn’t gone that long.”

All he got in reply was an angry chirp and a glare.

“There was no reason you needed to go with me. You and everyone else here were in perfectly good hands with Bunty caring for you—” Bunty smiled shyly at that, and he was happy to have cheered up her uncharacteristic melancholy a bit, regardless of the reason for it—”and I know for a fact that she spoils you with extra woodlice when I’m not around, so don’t act like my being gone put you out at all.”

Pickett squeaked in surprise and looked at Bunty, who shook her head. “I didn’t tell him, he must have figured it out.” She looked at Newt apologetically, but he knew it was all for Pickett’s benefit. He’d never actually be angry that she spoiled the creatures that he himself spoiled often enough.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked, holding out his hand, palm down. Pickett seemed to consider it for a moment, glaring at him with one twig-like appendage bent in an approximation of a hand-on-hip gesture, before finally letting out a tiny sigh and scampering onto Newt’s hand. “Thank you,” he grinned as he lifted his hand to his shoulder to let Pickett settle there.

“Aw,” Jacob said with a smile, watching as Pickett placed a twiggy hand against Newt’s neck in a gentle pat before snuggling more comfortably against his shirt collar. Newt craned his neck to try to meet Pickett’s eyes and smile in thanks. For all that the little bowtruckle had a flair for dramatics, he was really rather good at reading the moods of his human tree. They’d known each other for a long time, after all, and it certainly wasn’t the first difficult time he’d seen Newt through.

Bunty was also smiling at the scene, though there was still a tinge of sadness in her wistful look. Before Newt could again ask if everything was all right, she blinked, as though shaking herself out of her thoughts, and turned to take the nifflers back to their little den. Newt frowned, but before he could fully consider whether or not he should pursue questioning his assistant, the sound of the front door opening and closing upstairs immediately cleared his mind of any other thought but _Tina._

He rushed up the stairs (but tried not to make it _look_ like he’d rushed up the stairs) only to catch the slightest glimpse of Tina as she entered the bedroom and closed the door with rather more force than seemed strictly necessary. Newt froze. Should he knock and make sure she was all right? Should he leave her alone? He was at a loss as to how these things _worked_.

Jacob came up behind him, took one look at Newt’s wide-eyed stare at the bedroom door, and immediately guessed the situation. “Uh-oh. Looks like things maybe didn’t go so well at her meeting.”

Newt was still staring at the door. “What do I...do?” he asked Jacob, who seemed to understand these things (even if he might’ve been slightly wrong about how Tina would react to mentions of salamanders).

“Oh, well, that can be tricky. You wanna show her you care, but you don’t wanna bother her or annoy her if she wants to be left alone, you know?”

He turned to Jacob with a look that must have plainly said _‘no, I _don’t_ know’_ because Jacob smiled and explained further. “Maybe...knock on the door, and ask her if everything’s okay, but without being...pushy?” Newt blinked. Jacob nudged him toward the door. “You’ll figure it out, buddy. You’re really not as bad at this as you think. You n’ Tina are good together like that, ya know? You understand each other.”

Newt wasn’t so certain of that, but Jacob’s confidence made him feel a little more sure of himself. He quietly walked up to the bedroom door and leaned his ear against it. He didn’t hear anything alarming, so he raised his hand and lightly knocked on the wood. “Tina?” There wasn’t an immediate answer, which didn’t seem to be a great sign, so he continued. “Are you all right? Do you need anything? If you, um, want to be left alone, that’s perfectly fine, but please do know that I’m here. If...if you need anything. Or anyone. To, uh...talk to. Or...not.” Merlin, he was butchering this. Then, sudden inspiration struck. “Or, um, would you like a cup of tea? I can make more of the chamomile we had the other night.” He glanced over at Jacob to see him grinning and giving him a thumbs up. Tea was always a good idea, he assumed, or at least, that’s what his mum had always said.

“Tea’d be nice,” Tina’s quiet voice drifted through the door. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“None whatsoever,” Newt assured her, relieved. “Back in a jiffy.”

He hurried to his little kitchen area to set the kettle boiling, smiling slightly to himself at the knowledge that he could provide some comfort to Tina, however small.

Jacob came up next to him, still grinning. “See?” he said, gesturing toward the bedroom door. “You’re a natural.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Newt mumbled, “but I am...happy, to be able to help, even a little bit.” He frowned as his words registered. “Well, not _happy_. I wish there was no reason for Tina to need help at all.”

“Hey, hey,” Jacob soothed, “I get it, pal. You don’t wanna see her hurtin’, but it’s still nice to know you can help do something about it when she is.”

“Yes,” Newt sighed, glad to know he’d not come off like someone who’d enjoy the pain of others because it made him feel important to be needed. He’d seen men like that, and he hadn’t liked what he’d seen.

“I’m gonna head back downstairs,” Jacob said with a nod toward the basement. “I like being around all the magical critters, and I figure Bunty could use a hand. I wanna feel like I’m earnin’ my keep.”

“Don’t be silly,” Newt replied, looking at Jacob in earnest. “You’re my friend, Jacob. I’m happy to have you here.”

“I know, buddy,” Jacob smiled, but he suddenly looked very weary. Newt hadn’t noticed the dark circles under his friend’s eyes earlier, but they were extremely noticeable now. “I didn’t really mean…” he sighed. “I need something to do, Newt. I’m going crazy worrying about Queenie.”

Newt gave Jacob what he hoped was a sympathetic sort of smile before looking back down at his feet. He really wasn’t very good at knowing what to say in situations like this, most of the time. The whistling of the kettle thankfully saved him from having to try to find words.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked Jacob, hoping his friend would see the question for what it was—an attempt to offer him the same little bit of comfort as he was hoping to give Tina.

“Sure, I’ll try some.” Jacob smiled, and Newt knew he’d understood.

He conjured up a second teapot and went to work scooping in the tea and pouring the water. With a flick of his wand a serving tray and a packet of biscuits came zooming out of the cupboard, and he set the teapot, half the biscuits, and two cups on it before handing it to Jacob. “Take some to Bunty too, would you? She seemed a little down, though she said everything was fine.”

Jacob smiled and looked at him in a way that made Newt feel like there was something he wasn’t understanding about Bunty’s uncharacteristic mood. Newt frowned, and looked at Jacob quizzically.

“I think she’ll be fine, Newt, don’t you worry. I’ll take care of Bunty, you go see to Tina.”

“If you’re sure,” Newt replied, still utterly confused but trusting that Jacob knew more about how people worked than he did. “Do make sure that she actually sits down and stops working for more than a few minutes. I have a terrible time getting her to take breaks.”

“Will do,” Jacob nodded. “I’ll tell her it’s the boss’s orders.” And with that, he departed with the tea tray back to the basement.

Newt finished preparing the second teapot and arranged it on a tray with a cup and the rest of the biscuits. He didn’t know if Tina would feel like eating anything, but they were there if she did. With a quick wave of his wand the tray levitated and followed him as he made his way back over to the bedroom door and knocked gently.

“Tina? I’m back with the tea. Do you want me to leave it by the door, or send it in to you, or…?”

“You can come in, Newt,” she replied, and he could hear what he thought was a hint of amusement in her voice, tired and weary as it was.

He slowly opened the door and stepped inside, letting the tray float in after him and over to where Tina was sitting on the bed. He looked at the door then, unsure of what to do. He was quite certain that by the rules of proper human society it wouldn’t at all be appropriate to close the door with him on this side of it, but he also assumed Tina wanted to feel that she was in a private, closed-off space for her own comfort. He settled on pushing it nearly closed, but still cracked open to maintain propriety. Turning back around, he found Tina looking at the tea tray and frowning.

“Only one cup?” she asked as she looked up at him. “You’re not having any?”

“I…” he shuffled awkwardly and glanced away before meeting her eyes again. “I didn’t want to presume that you wanted company along with the tea.”

She looked hard at him for a moment, frowning, before her incredible eyes softened and the gentlest of smiles pulled the corners of her mouth. “I think you can safely presume that I’ll pretty much never _not_ want your company, Mr. Scamander.” Her cheeks tinged pink and she looked away from him, turning her attention to the tea.

“Well, Miss Goldstein,” he replied as he conjured up another teacup, “in that case, my company you shall have.”

He understood this was a game, of sorts. She’d used his surname when angry with him, trying to put some distance from the closeness they’d found in New York and strengthened through letters. It had startled him, confused him, and hurt him, but he understood now that she’d been hurting more. This was her way of making light of it, he supposed. Apologies had been made and now it was...teasing. A playful reminder of their former formality. He...liked it.

Tina set the tray on the bed, then turned to look at him, tilting her head questioningly. “Are you gonna sit down?”

Oh. The only place in the room to sit was on the bed. Next to Tina. Who was also on the bed. He’d thought closing the door would be improper, but this? Sitting with her on his narrow bed in his bedroom where the door was very nearly almost closed? Merlin, he could feel his face going beetroot just _thinking_ about it. It was silly, he knew—just the other night they had sat close together inside his very much closed suitcase, after all—but still, inside the case felt like its own world with its own rules (or lack thereof), and it just seemed _different_ out here in the world of other humans. But it would be a bit awkward to take tea together while he was standing on the other side of the room, he supposed, so he made his way over to the bed and sat at the end of it, positioned so the tea tray was between them.

He frowned as he shifted on the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot. “Merlin, this bed is awful.”

Tina said nothing, but the look on her face told him she agreed. “Oh. Tina, I’m so sorry - it’s been so long since I’ve slept in it that I didn’t realize... Well. I’ll order a new mattress first thing tomorrow.”

“It’s okay, Newt,” Tina smiled as she poured the tea, “I’ve slept in worse places.”

“But I want you to be comfortable here,” he insisted. “It’s no trouble at all. I should’ve got a new one ages ago.”

Tina didn’t protest, and, bed discussion now over, they sat in silence for a moment while they each blew cooling spells into their cups and sipped at the now drinkable tea. The floral taste and aroma of the chamomile was pleasant and soothing, and he hoped it would give Tina a small amount of comfort. He glanced over at her to find her breathing in the wisps of steam from her cup with her eyes closed, features tight and pained. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye, but she didn’t bother wiping it away. Newt didn’t know what sort of thing he should say in this situation—he didn’t want to prompt her into talking if she wasn’t ready or didn’t feel like it—but he thought he should say _something_, so he settled for an apology.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t home in time to go with you to the Ministry. I had planned to.”

Tina opened her eyes and gave him a very small smile. “It’s okay. There wasn’t anything you could’ve done anyway.”

“I know,” he sighed, “But I had wanted to be there, just to...to let you know that you weren’t alone. I know how those kinds of meetings can be.”

“It was just so…” her grip on her teacup tightened and he could see the muscles in her jaw twitch as she clenched her teeth. “Theseus said I’d be giving a report. It was less a report, and more an inquisition. It wasn’t just the MACUSA liaison, but several members of the British MInistry as well. All asking me questions about Grindelwald as though I’d know anything about where he is now. And the way they talked about Credence, and about _Queenie_, was…” She met his eyes briefly and he could see hers were watery. “I thought I’d be able to handle it. I didn’t expect the way they’d say her name with the same amount of disgust as Grindelwald’s. Askin’ me if I suspected she’d been one of his followers, and questioning if she’d been spying for him all along. I tried to explain that it was _me_ she’d gone to Paris to find, not him, and that she’d gone to London with Jacob to get married, not to meet up with Grindelwald’s followers, and that they sought you out because you’re a _friend,_ not an _associate_. But they really don’t seem to trust you, and they’re not convinced it wasn’t all premeditated, which of course makes _me_ look suspicious as well.” She seemed to deflate in front of him as she stared into her teacup, tears now freely rolling down her cheeks. “And they know she’s a legilimens, so now they’re worried about what sort of things she might have heard while working at MACUSA. She’d always kinda played up the silly, flirty blonde thing, ya know? Kept a low profile. She got a kick out of it. She’d never really taken her job seriously or wanted to advance at all. She was happy just making a little extra money, and always called me the ‘career girl.’ So now they’re thinkin’ it was all a clever act so she could sneak around hearing peoples’ thoughts and learning classified information.” She paused to swipe her sleeve over her face, finally mopping up some of the tears. “She’s on _wanted posters_, Newt. I thought I was prepared, but actually _seein’_ it…” She sniffled as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t know where she is, or if she’s safe, and it’s killin’ me.”

Newt didn’t know what to say, so instead of speaking he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her. She took it with a smile of thanks and wiped off her eyes and nose. She looked so much smaller than usual at that moment—all curled in on herself with grief—and Newt decided that propriety could go straight to hell. He set his cup down on the tray and moved it out of the way so he could sit close enough to wrap his arms around her, breathing a sigh of relief as he felt her set her own cup aside to accept the hug and relax her head against his shoulder.

They sat like that for some time, Newt soothingly rubbing her back while she silently alternated between crying and dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief. The quiet scene was interrupted, however, by the very loud slamming of his front door.

_“NEWT!”_

It was Theseus, and he did not sound happy. They heard a loud sneeze followed by muffled curses, then “WHY IN THE BLOODY _HELL_ AM I SNEEZING _NEWTS_?”

Tina pulled her head away from his shoulder to look up at him questioningly, her reddened eyes warring between confusion and amusement.

He sighed. “Oh, bugger.”

* * *

_“ACHOO”_

Newt watched as a rather large amphibian materialized directly on top of his brother’s head.

“Aw, hell,” Jacob sighed, “you went almost fifteen minutes without another one...thought maybe it was over.”

“It would appear not,” Theseus replied coldly from where he was seated at the kitchen table. It had been nearly five hours since he’d stormed into Newt’s house demanding an explanation, and although the sneezes were getting further apart and fewer newts were appearing each time, they’d not yet stopped completely. Theseus hadn’t stopped glaring at Newt since he’d arrived, either.

“Well, this one is a lovely specimen—a Great Crested!” Newt excitedly announced. “Well done.”

Theseus glared harder.

The newt lifted its head and flicked its tail happily, then began attempting to burrow into Theseus’ hair. Newt, seeing the rising irritation on his brother’s face as Theseus began reaching for his wand, jumped up to rescue the little creature.

“I swear, I’m two seconds away from using these blasted newts as target practice,” Theseus growled as he gripped his wand hard enough that Newt was concerned it might snap in half.

“Not including me, I hope,” he grinned sheepishly as he lifted the creature from his brother’s head and cradled it gently.

Theseus raised a single eyebrow, an expression that clearly said ‘_don’t push it’_ and tucked his wand back away.

Newt handed the amphibian off to Bunty, who had been assisting him in ferrying them down to the basement and releasing them. Newt was more than happy to have them, if he were honest, as quite a few of his creatures would consider hunting them a tasty bit of recreation, and they could use the enrichment. The ones that survived would adapt into the habitats and add more biodiversity to the little ecosystems he’d created. It was all just nature balancing out.

As he’d done every time he’d come back upstairs for the last several hours, Newt glanced at the still closed bedroom door. The interruption of Theseus’ arrival had cut Newt and Tina’s tea short. Before he’d reluctantly left her he’d gently brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb, telling her to come out whenever she felt ready, but to take her time if she’d rather be alone. She’d not yet left the bedroom, which didn’t worry Newt _too_ much, but it did make his heart ache for what she must be feeling.

While Newt and Bunty had been busy shifting newts into the basement, Jacob had been distracting Theseus by teaching him muggle card games.

“Gin,” Theseus announced, setting his cards down on the table, “I think?”

Jacob quickly looked over the cards and nodded. “Damn. You’re having one helluva streak of beginner’s luck.”

Newt, interest piqued now that the newt problem had (mostly) calmed down, sat down at the table and watched as Jacob helped Theseus add up points assigned to the cards. “That looks like an interesting game. You’ll have to teach me next.”

“Sure thing!” Jacob agreed as he began gathering up the cards. “Gin’s best with two players, but we can play regular rummy instead and you can join us. The same basic rules apply.”

A card escaped from the deck, and Newt picked it up to inspect it curiously. “The cards don’t do anything? No moving? Or exploding?”

“Why would the cards explode?” Jacob asked, blinking. “Wait, do you guys got exploding cards?”

Theseus laughed, which was quite a nice sound to hear, actually, considering. Jacob had an almost, dare he say it, _magical_ ability to make people feel better, even though Newt knew he was himself hurting. “Remind me to introduce you to Exploding Snap next time.”

_Next time?_ Newt gave Theseus a questioning look, a hint of a smile on his face to show he approved of his brother making these visits and dinner here a regular occurrence. Theseus smiled back tentatively, as if he was a little unsure of his welcome. “Next time,” Newt agreed reassuringly.

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open snapped Newt’s attention away from his brother and to the woman who’d finally emerged. Tina looked much better than she had earlier, though there was still a weary exhaustion that seemed to weigh down her usual energy.

“Hey,” she greeted softly as she set the tea tray by the sink and flicked her wand to direct the teapot to begin washing itself out.

Newt had jumped to his feet when she’d come into the kitchen—a reflex more than anything—and now he felt like he was standing there like an awkward idiot while everyone looked at him. Tina was smiling at him gently though, so clearly he wasn’t being _too_ much of an idiot, he supposed. “Um. Hello.”

“Hi,” Tina said, again, giving him that amused look he’d found himself on the receiving end of more than once, but which he didn’t think was a _bad_ look.

_Say something!_ His mind screamed, urging him to stop standing there staring. “Would you like to sit down?” he finally asked, nodding toward the chair he’d just vacated.

Tina looked at his chair, then at the other, _completely empty_, chair still at the table. She looked back at him, still smiling that same amused smile, and said “sure” as she sat in his chair.

“Would you like something to eat?” he asked her. Then, suddenly remembering that there were other people in his house, in his kitchen, at his table, watching this awkward interaction with their own amused smiles, he amended; “would everyone care for some dinner? I did some shopping, earlier. My cupboards are no longer bare. I could, um...make...something?” Newt was not much of a cook, but being on his own, both in the field and at home, meant he knew how to do a passable stew or shepherd’s pie—simple, hearty food that would last for a few meals.

“Newt, pal, no offense,” Jacob said as he stood and made his way toward the pantry, “but this is my area of expertise.” He stretched his fingers until his knuckles popped. “Let’s see what you got to work with.”

“Jacob,” Newt frowned, “you don’t have to cook every meal while you’re here. You’re my guest.”

“I know, buddy, I know, but just like helping Bunty, I need something to do, and I’m happy to do it!”

“Actually,” Tina spoke up from her seat at the table. “I was thinkin’...” She turned to look at Newt. “Is there a movie house around here? I think I’d really like to get out for a while. I’m tired of bein’ cooped up, and, well...Queenie used to always like to go out to get dinner and see a no-maj picture when one of us had had a bad day. Kind of a silly escape. I just thought, maybe...it might be nice to go out.”

Newt nodded. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ve never actually been to a muggle cinema.”

Newt looked toward the others. Jacob and Theseus seemed to be sharing a conspiratorial look, which they quickly broke when Tina turned around. “Actually,” Theseus said, “I think I’d rather stay in tonight. I don’t think I want to be around a lot of people.”

“Me neither,” Jacob agreed. “And I’d like to know more about these exploding cards.”

“You two go,” Theseus reassured them with a gentle smile. “Jacob spent all afternoon teaching me muggle games, now I can show him some wizarding ones.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Sure we’re sure,” Jacob grinned. “I’ll whip us up something to eat and we’ll play some games. You two go out and have a nice time, we’ll be fine here. Maybe we’ll raid your liquor cabinet.”

“I’m never drinking again,” Theseus declared, which made Newt snort.

“We all know that’s a lie. And anyway, I haven’t got anything, I’m afraid. I don’t even _have_ a liquor cabinet.”

“Fine,” Theseus—apparently still stuck on Newt’s dismissal of his potential sobriety—replied, crossing his arms across his chest. “I _might_ drink again if you have _proper_ hangover potions, not whatever that hack apothecary gave you.”

“It cured your hangover, didn’t it?” Newt argued.

Theseus raised his eyebrows and fixed him with an incredulous look.

“We could always go buy something if you change your mind,” Jacob said, grinning. “And you know, you haven’t sneezed in a while. Maybe it’s worn off, finally.”

“You’re right, maybe it’s—_ACHOO!_”

“...Then again, maybe not,” Jacob amended as Theseus shouted.

“_Damn it, Newt!_”

“Wait!” Newt cried out, eyes darting around, “There are no newts! It was just a regular sneeze. It must be done, then.”

Tina, Newt noticed when he glanced her way, was staring at them all in confused amusement, having no doubt been trying to piece together the whole story from snippets of conversation. He hadn’t exactly fully explained the situation before he’d left her to see to Theseus when he’d arrived. “Do I even want to know?” she asked, looking at each of them in turn.

“No,” three voices said in unison.

* * *

The muggle cinema was dark, slightly musty, and somewhat over-warm with all the bodies occupying an enclosed space. But it was fascinating. Newt knew that muggles didn’t have moving photographs, but they’d somehow managed to create stories by rapidly capturing many still photographs and running them together so that they appeared to move. Set to music and with words explaining the plot and dialogue, the film, as they called it, was actually very entertaining. It was this kind of ingenuity that made Newt struggle to understand why many wizards were so preoccupied with pure bloodlines and thought of muggles as lesser. They couldn’t use magic, but they managed to do so many amazing things without it, and he felt that those achievements should be celebrated rather than scoffed at.

He and Tina had stopped for a simple dinner of fish and chips, each taking comfort in the oily, crispy bits of fried potato and battered fish. His stomach was full and warm, and being out of the house seemed to perk Tina up a little, which of course made him feel better as well. This had been a good idea—something different to keep them from falling deeper into dark thoughts of the events that had happened and the events that were sure to come.

The film itself was a simple plot; a princess had been kidnapped by bandits hoping to ransom her back to the castle for a large amount of gold, and a young hero set off to rescue her through what seemed to be an excessive number of too-easily-won sword fights. When the princess screamed and fainted, he heard Tina make a “hmmph” sound next to him. He couldn’t help but smile. Of course Tina, accomplished auror that she was, would have a problem with the depiction of women as fragile and helpless. Her strength was one of the things he admired most about her.

Taking note of how other couples around them were seated, Newt gently reached over and covered Tina’s hand with his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze to let her know he didn’t think of her as helpless like the woman in the film. Tina, still focused on the screen, turned her hand underneath his and entwined their fingers, and Newt suddenly forgot how to breathe. He was still looking straight ahead, but every single ounce of awareness became centered on the feel of her hand in his—the softness of her palm, the tingling sensations as her fingers slid against his, the jolts of pure _magic_ as she occasionally brushed the sensitive skin of his fingertips or the vees where fingers met. He reciprocated, sliding his fingers along hers as their hands delicately caressed and danced. He had no idea it was possible for _hands_ to feel this much, but judging by the shakiness of her breath beside him, she was feeling it too. They’d held hands before, of course, but this was somehow new and entirely different. It was powerful, almost overwhelming, and feeling so much while thinking of how strong, stubborn, determined, _wonderful_ she was made a jolt go through his chest as he suddenly _knew_, without a doubt. He loved her. He was in love with her.

Later on, if asked, Newt knew he’d never be able to recall what had happened in the rest of the film.

Reluctantly, they let go of each other’s hands as the film ended—brought back into the harsh reality of overhead lighting and a crowd of other people. They walked back slowly, hands shoved deep into coat pockets, each casting shy glances at the other as they silently made their way home.

When they reached the steps of his townhouse, Newt paused. “Well,” he said, smiling somewhat bashfully, “I guess this would be the part where I walk you to your door. But, um, seeing as how it’s also _my_ door…”

Tina smiled and placed a hand on the crook of his arm. “Can we just...sit here, for a little while?”

It was chilly out, but not terribly cold, and Newt’s insides still felt unnaturally warm from the unexpected intimacy of holding hands in the cinema. The cool night air was welcome on his overheated, suddenly nervous, body. He nodded. Following her lead, he sat down next to her on the stone steps, shivering as the cold seeped in through the wool of his trousers.

“Newt…” she began, then frowned a little, and he tilted his head at her with concern.

“Is everything all right, Tina?” _Well, that was a stupid question_. “I mean…”

“I know what you meant,” Tina smiled gently. “Other than everything else, you mean.” He nodded. “Yeah, Newt,” she smiled at him, “everything’s okay. I just wanted to talk. I, uh,” she looked away from him, looking to her hands as she picked at a loose thread along the edge of her coat sleeve. With a deep breath, she continued. “I wanted to get a few things straight.”

“Oh.” Newt replied, suddenly feeling like his stomach was simultaneously tied in knots and also full of billiwigs. “Did I...was it something I did?”

“What?” she looked up, sharply. “Oh, no. No no, nothing like that. Mercy Lewis,” she sighed, “I’m not good at this.”

He said nothing, just looked at her with attention, waiting for when she was ready.

She looked back to her sleeve, unable to look him in the eye as she spoke. “I know we said we cared about each other,” she began, reminding him of their conversation in his suitcase, “but...what does that mean, exactly, to you?” She glanced up at him, a question in her eyes, before quickly glancing away again and continuing, words coming out a bit rushed. “I want to make sure we’re on the same page. I don’t wanna get hurt again due to a misunderstanding. I know the timing seems all wrong, but I do care about you, and so…” She paused, taking a breath before pushing on. “Do you…want to be together? You know...romantically? And...long-term? I guess that’s what I need to know. Where this is going, I mean.” He was silent as she spoke, heart hammering in his chest as he took in the wonderful questions she was asking. His silence must’ve given her the wrong idea, because she seemed flustered and began backpedaling. “If not, that’s okay,” she tried to sound reassuring, he could tell, but she was failing. “You’ve become my closest friend, other than Queenie, and I’m happy with that, I…”

He didn’t let her finish. Darting forward, he grabbed her hand with his, urging her to look at him. “Tina,” he breathed, trying, and likely failing, to curb his excitement. “Of course I want that. All of it. For...well, I suppose, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Tears were welling up in her eyes as she smiled at him in relief, and he knew his own matched. “Yeah?” she asked, sniffling.

“Yeah,” he smiled, and he turned his hand to recreate the way they’d been entwined during the film. Looking down to stare at their hands in wonder, he confessed, “when I touch you, it feels…”

“Like magic, but...without magic,” Tina finished, her own breath shaky as she slid her fingers against his.

He nodded, pleasantly relieved to know that she understood and felt it too. “I’m afraid I don’t really know what to do now,” he confessed further. “I’ve little to no practical experience in this area.”

“Neither do I,” Tina replied with a wry, self-deprecating, smile, “but I think that’s okay. As long as we both know how we feel—that we care about each other—we’ll figure the rest out as we go, at our own pace.”

He met her eyes, utterly captivated by the fire within them. “I do care,” he assured, as he reached out to brush the backs of his fingers along her cheek, then turned them to cup it gently. “Very much.” _More than you know_.

She raised her free hand to press it against the back of his, holding it to her cheek, then, still holding his eyes with her own, she turned her face slightly to brush a gentle kiss against his palm. Newt’s breath caught at the simple intimacy of the gesture. He should do something. Kiss her? Maybe on the cheek? That wouldn’t be too soon, or too forward, or at all unwelcome, he didn’t think.

But before he could give in to the impulse to lean forward and do just that, a slight crashing sound followed by muffled curses tore his attention away from Tina and to the source of the sound.

At the window, Jacob and Theseus were hurriedly trying to right the stand they’d knocked over and to get the curtains back into place. Newt raised his eyebrows at them, and, realizing they’d been caught, they both froze and grinned sheepishly.

“Oh, for the love of…” Tina muttered as she dropped his hand and sighed. He glared, seconding the sentiment.

Perhaps there were too many people in his house, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long delay between chapters. It was due to a pretty bad dive in mental health combined with work suddenly becoming absolutely insane, and me not having any energy or motivation or focus for writing. I think I've got my momentum back, so I'm hoping multiple months won't go by between updates again. No promises, of course, but I'm trying my best to keep up the flow of this. I hope the longer length of the chapter, plus the end scene, made up for the delay. :)
> 
> If anyone cares, that movie theater scene is based on my own relationship, and how I came to the realization that I was in love with my husband when he held my hand at a movie. We'd held hands before, but right then it just...felt like magic. Not all, but a lot of my vision of these two will be based on my own relationship, because we were also largely inexperienced and moved at a snail's pace, and we were (and still are, thirteen years later) adorable, damn it! 
> 
> Next chapter we finally get out of Newt's house! Adventure awaits!
> 
> Also Jacob/Theseus brotp 4 evah.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina and Bunty have a chat, and Newt and Theseus introduce Tina and Jacob to their mum and show off the Scamander homestead.

The chaise in Newt’s basement was, Tina discovered, infinitely more comfortable than his bed. It was old and saggy and the frame creaked when she moved, but the cushions were a perfect combination of worn but firm, and they welcomed her weight like a warm hug—free of lumps and bumps and poking springs. No wonder he slept here.

She’d come to the basement to feel less alone, as there was currently no one else in the upper portion of the house, and it was much too quiet and hollow-feeling. Down here it was warm and bright and teeming with sounds and smells, and it made her feel so much more..._alive_.

After breakfast, Newt had gone with Theseus to the wizarding part of the city to take care of some business regarding Leta, and Jacob had gone along to see what wizarding London was like. Or at least, that was the reason he gave, though Tina suspected it was partially to offer Theseus support. The two had hit it off almost immediately, much to the annoyance of herself and Newt, who were now being teased by both of them together instead of just each of them separately. Before they’d all left this morning Newt had mentioned needing to see about getting a new bed while they were out, and Theseus had quipped “why, need something a little bigger now, eh?” while glancing in her direction, which had caused both her and Newt to go bright red while Theseus and Jacob grinned. No, it really wasn’t helpful having two people ganging up to laugh at their expense.

Tina settled back into the chaise a little further, momentarily disturbing the niffler who’d been snoozing on her lap like a cat. “Sorry,” she whispered as she gently scritched the fur around his neck until he settled back down and continued his nap. Her other hand held a book which she’d been trying—and failing—to read for the better part of an hour. There was too much on her mind, and in her brain’s battle for focus reading was badly losing to daydreaming.

Last night Newt had confirmed what she’d hoped—that he wanted to be with her in the same way she wanted to be with him—and her feelings had been all in a tizzy ever since. Before they’d been so rudely interrupted, she was almost certain he’d been about to lean in toward her. To kiss her? She wasn’t sure, but it was all she’d been able to think about. She’d been kissed before, but not for a very long time (since Zeke Tomlinson at the winter formal their last year at Ilvermorny, and that had been more a case of friendly affection than anything truly romantic). She’d never kissed someone who she felt so _much_ for. A simple touch from Newt on her hand or face set her heart pounding and made her breath unsteady. He was so gentle when he touched her—the sureness of his actions in direct contrast with the hesitancy on his face—and his fingertips left trails of tingles when they brushed along her skin. It made her shiver just thinking about it. That he apparently also felt that same buzzing energy when they touched made it all feel that much more magical. If a brush of his fingers could feel so incredible, she could only imagine what a brush of his lips against hers would feel like. And she had definitely been imagining it quite a bit.

A noise startled Tina out of her daydreams. Looking up, she saw Bunty heading in her direction, a bucket full of some sort of feed in her hand. The other woman froze when she caught sight of Tina in Newt’s chair.

“Oh, Miss Gol-uh, Tina. Hello.”

“Hi,” Tina replied with what she hoped was a friendly smile.

“Sorry to bother you,” Bunty said as she set the bucket down, avoiding looking directly at Tina. “I thought everyone was gone.”

“Everyone but me,” Tina said, shrugging slightly. “I felt sorta...unnecessary. And you didn’t bother me,” she sighed, putting her book down, “I’ve got too much on my mind to be able to read.” The niffler woke up from the movement, shot her a somewhat peeved glare, and hopped down from her lap. Tina smiled as he scampered away. “Well, guess I’m not his favorite person anymore.”

“Oh, he’s fickle,” Bunty laughed. “Give him an hour, he’ll be back. Maybe sooner if you offer him a coin.”

Bunty’s quick burst of laughter faded as she turned away from Tina, looking uncomfortable again. Tina sighed internally, not entirely sure how to talk to the other woman without it being awkward. Well, she supposed, being helpful was usually well-received. “Do you need a hand with anything?” she offered as she lifted herself from the chaise and stretched.

“Oh,” Bunty replied with a polite smile, still not quite looking at her, “thank you, but no. Everyone is taken care of for now, I was just about to make some tea and do a quick inventory of potion ingredients.”

“I could help with that,” Tina replied, then frowned. “Well, maybe. Newt’s probably got some stuff I wouldn’t recognize.”

“It’s fine,” Bunty waved her off, “I’ve got it.” Then, perhaps noticing Tina’s discomfort at just standing there, she softened her tone. “Would you like some tea? You could get the kettle going.”

“Sure,” Tina replied, grateful for something to do. “You know,” she said as she picked up the kettle, “I always thought it was an exaggeration that British people drink a lot of tea—_aguamenti_—” water streamed from the tip of her wand into the kettle—”but I don’t think I’ve ever been offered as much tea in my life as I have these past few days.”

Bunty frowned and barely looked in her direction. Oh. Morrigan, she hadn’t meant…

“I’m not making fun,” she hurriedly clarified, “I get it, I think. It’s not so much about the tea itself as it is about the offer. It’s...nice.” She flashed a hesitant smile at Bunty and turned her attention back to the task of making tea.

It was quiet for a moment while the two women focused on their work. It was broken by Bunty’s quiet voice, speaking so low Tina almost didn’t hear her. “You’re different than I thought you’d be.”

Tina wasn’t sure how to respond to that. What had she thought she’d be? She settled on a simple “Oh?”

“All I knew about you was that you’re an auror, and American. I thought you’d be more like Newt’s brother. More...stern, and formal, and a little bit...arrogant?” She gave an apologetic half smile at that. “Newt doesn’t seem to have the highest regard for law enforcement, and American law enforcement even less so, so I couldn’t understand how…” Bunty glanced briefly in Tina’s direction before turning away again. “But now that I’ve met you, I do understand, I think. You’ve been very kind. The creatures seem to adore you, and...and so does Newt.”

_Oh._ “Well, I adore them too,” she replied softly, giving an empathetic smile, “it’s hard not to.”

Bunty smiled sadly and met Tina’s eyes for a moment, as understanding passed between them. Looking away again, she said, “You said you thought you’d be unnecessary if you’d gone along today. I doubt Newt would’ve thought so.” There was no spite or unfriendliness in Bunty’s tone, but her sad smile and somewhat stiff posture still spoke of a slight amount of envy.

“Maybe not,” Tina sighed, “but I felt...maybe ‘uncomfortable’ is a better word. I felt like I’d be intruding since I didn’t really know Leta. I only met her very briefly before she…died.” Tina frowned, thinking of the woman she’d barely met and the way she’d been shamefully envious when she’d thought she was marrying Newt. She struggled with finding the words to explain. “She hadn’t been who I thought she’d be,” Tina finally said, willing Bunty to understand by repeating her own words back to her. “I had her so built up in my head as this perfect, larger-than-life person. I thought...there’d been a mistake in a magazine, and I thought Newt was gonna marry her. I was mad at him, not her, but I still couldn’t help but feel like someone as plain and ordinary as me couldn’t hope to compare, and I questioned why I ever even thought I had a chance. Then Newt set the record straight, and I met her, and she was just a normal person, you know? Very...poised and proper, sure; very...quiet and dignified. But just a person. I wish I’d actually gotten the chance to know her. I think I would’ve liked her.” _Instead I’m left with an image of her in my head that turned out to be wrong,_ Tina thought, but didn’t add out loud.

“Was it Spellbound?” Bunty asked, frowning.

“What?” Tina was pulled from her thoughts by the abrupt question.

“The magazine? Was it Spellbound?”

Tina frowned, trying to remember the name of the stupid thing when Queenie had reluctantly shown it to her. “I think so?”

“I hope it was,” Bunty continued, “or else there was more than one magazine that got Newt mixed up with his brother.” Tina looked at her quizzically. “I knew about it,” Bunty said, eyes slightly wide. “I was there, you see. At Newt’s book launch. I bought the magazine because I was in it, even though they referred to me as ‘unknown woman,’” she scoffed.

“Oh,” Tina replied, suddenly recalling the other person in the photo, all but hiding from view. “I remember.”

“I knew about the mistake,” Bunty blurted, now wringing her hands as she looked up at Tina nervously. “But I didn’t know that Newt didn’t know! I’d assumed he’d seen it, or that someone had told him about it. And I thought that the girl in the photo in his case—you—would know it was a mistake, if you were someone special to him.”

Tina frowned. She didn’t think Bunty had meant the statement to be a jab at her, but hearing it said in such a simple, logical way made it clear that she’d been pretty foolish. But how was she to know? She and Newt hadn’t really made anything clear about their feelings at the time. Not clear enough for her to feel certain about them, at any rate.

“But I swear I didn’t try to hide it from him,” Bunty continued earnestly, “I sincerely thought he knew about it.”

“I hadn’t thought you had,” Tina replied, a bit baffled and also slightly defensive. “I’m not blaming anyone except the magazine itself.” She sighed. “And me, I suppose, for being so unsure of myself that I believed it without question.”

Bunty nodded. “I just didn’t want you to think I would…” she trailed off, looking away and looking very uncomfortable. She then squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I talked to Jacob yesterday. He brought me some tea that Newt had made for us. Well, for you, really, but he offered it to us as well. Jacob said Newt had noticed that I seemed down, but he didn’t know why. Jacob did though, and I…” she looked at Tina briefly before glancing away again. “I know you do as well. Apparently it’s obvious to everyone but Newt.” She sighed. “So I didn’t want you to think poorly of me, or think that I’d kept things from him on purpose to cause trouble because of something as petty as jealousy. I know Newt’s his own person, not a prize to be won, and it’s clear that he doesn’t see me as anything but an employee. A colleague, at best.”

Tina honestly hadn’t expected her to come right out and address her feelings for Newt in such a straightforward way. It must’ve been extremely difficult for her, and Tina felt an awkward sort of empathy toward the other woman. “Bunty…”

“Please don’t,” Bunty cut her off. “I appreciate what you were trying to do, when talking about Leta. I don’t have any ill will against you, and I think...I think we’ll get along, if you’re to stay. But please don’t try to relate. After all, your story has a very different ending to mine.”

It was true, and Tina felt properly chastised for the way she’d tried to empathize with Bunty. She knew how it felt to be confronted with the reality that the person she’d developed feelings for was with someone else instead, but that reality had turned out to be a case of a printing error for her. The same couldn’t be said for Bunty.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, unable to meet Bunty’s eyes. “I wasn’t thinking. I hadn’t meant to rub it in.”

“I know,” Bunty replied, just as quietly. “I’m sorry if I seemed rude.”

Tina smiled. “You weren’t. You’re right, and I was being insensitive.”

A somewhat awkward silence settled over them while Tina poured the tea. Remembering something Bunty had said, Tina smiled. “So,” she said, breaking the silence as she tried to catch Bunty’s eye, “speaking of Newt’s aversion to law enforcement...did you know that the first time I met him I arrested him?”

“No!” Bunty gasped, but she didn’t seem entirely surprised. “What did he do?”

“The niffler got loose in a no-maj bank. You can imagine what kind of trouble that would cause.”

“Oh no!” Bunty laughed. “The little thief no doubt tried to test the capacity limit of his pouch, I’m sure.”

Tina smiled fondly at the memory. “Newt and I clashed a good bit when we first met,” she admitted. “I didn’t understand his creatures or his motivations, and he had such a casual, blatant disregard for the law. I’d assumed the worst about him, and he’d considered me a nuisance who was holding up his plans. It was a little rocky, until we got thrown into chaos together and kind of...came to understand each other a little better.”

“I haven’t known him very long,” Bunty said, “but I know understanding Newt isn’t always easy. He can sometimes seem a bit...prickly, if you don’t realize he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“Well,” Tina shrugged, smiling self-deprecatingly, “so can I. I think that’s part of why we didn’t get along right away. Both of us are a little too stubborn and headstrong for our own good, sometimes.” She looked at Bunty, and gently smiled. “I’m glad you understand him though. I don’t think Newt has many friends. I don’t think most people bother trying to figure him out or seeing below the surface.”

Bunty’s face reddened and she glanced away. “I don’t think Newt thinks of me all that much, but thank you.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Tina insisted. “He said you’re an invaluable help with his creatures. He trusts you with them, and for Newt that’s a pretty big compliment. Just because he’s completely oblivious, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t think very highly of you.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Bunty reluctantly agreed, still looking away.

“Sure I am. You know, Newt may be different in a lot of ways—most of them good—but he’s still a _man_.” Bunty smiled at that, and Tina pressed on, hoping to coax more than just a tiny sad smile out of her. “So, you’ve spent a lot of time around Newt with his creatures...have you ever seen him do an erumpent mating dance?”

Bunty’s head shot up, eyes wide. “Oh, Merlin, no!” she laughed, “but I _have_ seen him hide in the bushes and mimic a diricawl’s mating call in an attempt to get the female to actually pay attention to the male. Unfortunately she saw him, and his call was apparently better than the bird’s. He ended up with an admiring female following him around for days.”

Tina laughed, imagining it. Newt was dedicated to his work, that was for sure. She admired him for it though, even if some of his methods were less than conventional and good for a fond laugh at his expense.

The two began swapping stories, and when Newt came home a little while later he found them sharing a pot of tea and giggling like schoolgirls.

“What’s so funny?” he asked good-naturedly.

Tina looked at him, turned and exchanged a look with Bunty, and then dissolved into laughter again as a fresh bout of giggles took over the other woman as well.

“What?” Newt asked, frowning in confusion, which only made them laugh harder.

Through the noise of their laughter, Tina could make out the sound of the basement door creaking open. “Did you ask her yet?” Theseus’ voice called down from the top of the stairs.

“We only just got home, Theseus,” Newt shouted back, “how could I have possibly asked her yet? Bugger off, will you?”

Tina pulled herself together enough to pick up on the conversation. “Ask who what?”

Newt stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down toward his feet in the way she knew meant he was feeling a little nervous. Her laughter died down as she waited for him to speak.

“I should go, um...check on the nifflers,” Bunty magicked away her teacup and made to move away.

“Stay for a moment please, Bunty,” Newt stopped her, looking up to smile slightly in her direction.

“Is everything all right?” Tina asked, deciding to prompt him a little.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling in a way that looked forced, before he sighed and dropped his eyes again. “Well, no, not…” he trailed off, leaving the general state of ‘not all right’ that they’d all been in these past days unspoken, “but yes.” He tilted his head up to look at her as he continued. “Theseus plans to use his forced time off to go visit our mum, in Dorset. He suggested today that you and I and Jacob might consider going as well, for a few days or so, and I can’t say that I disagree. It would be good for all of us, I think, to have a change of scenery and some fresh air.” He turned to Bunty. “That is, Bunty, if you wouldn’t mind looking after the creatures alone for a little while. I won’t leave you with everyone, that’d hardly be fair. Oddly enough, it was Theseus who suggested bringing along some of the creatures who are used to running or roaming. Give them some open pasture to move around in. He suggested the erumpent and the zouwu, both of which I agree would enjoy the exercise, and I can think of a few others who wouldn’t mind a bit of travel. I’d also, of course, take the nifflers.”

“Of course I don’t mind, Newt,” Bunty replied with a smile, “everyone here will be just fine.”

Newt turned back to Tina, looking at her a bit anxiously. “Is that...something you might like to do, Tina?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “A change of scenery and some fresh air would be good, I think. And I’d like to get to see some of that famous English countryside while I’m stuck here.” She rubbed the thin metal band on her wrist as Newt gave her a sympathetic, almost apologetic, smile. “It would also be kind of nice to meet your mother and see where you grew up.” Newt met her eyes and held them, and she saw a sort of warm intensity there that made her insides glow.

“Well, I’d best be getting back to work,” Bunty’s voice interrupted the moment. Tina turned to give her an apologetic smile, which Bunty weakly returned before turning and, somewhat hurriedly, walking deeper into the basement.

She turned back to find Newt watching her. “Are you really all right with it? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable at all, and I know new places and new people aren’t always the easiest things on a good day, let alone...well. With all you’ve been through.”

She smiled, stepping closer to him. He took his hands out of his pockets and gently reached out to take hold of hers. “Yeah, I’m okay with it. I do think a change would do us all some good. I’ve always been a city girl, but lately I’ve been starting to feel a little claustrophobic. I guess even city birds need a wide-open sky now and then, huh?”

Newt smiled at her. “There’s definitely plenty of wide-open sky in Dorset.”

“And I’d really like to see it,” she smiled back, getting lost for a moment in his gaze. He hadn’t been gone very long this morning, but she’d _missed_ him, as silly as it sounded to admit it to herself. Recalling the reason for his absence, she frowned slightly. “How did things go this morning?”

“About as well as can be expected,” Newt sighed. “Theseus doesn’t want to have a funeral service, seeing as how so few people actually cared about her beyond her family name and status. We wrote a short obituary for the papers to publish, and Theseus took care of some financial and family matters, and he’s going to leave it at that.”

“Is he holding up okay?”

“Better than I expected, which frankly worries me. I know everyone grieves differently, but other than being a little more quiet and a little more bitter, he doesn’t seem much different than usual.”

“It’s still raw,” Tina offered by way of explanation, wishing she didn’t have the sort of experience to understand. Newt was also no stranger to grief, but he didn’t tend to bottle up his emotions in an effort to stay strong like she suspected Theseus did. Like she did. “Give him some time—when it eventually hits him fully it may not be pretty.”

Newt smiled sadly, but didn’t say anything else. The two of them were still holding hands, and it felt nice to just stand there in each other’s space and touch him, secure in the knowledge that her feelings were returned. She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand and gave it a squeeze, hoping to give him a little reassurance that she was here to offer him comfort if he needed it. He’d done the same for her twice now. He squeezed back, letting her know that her message was received.

“So,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence and giving her a quizzical look, “when I came downstairs earlier...what _was_ so funny?”

Tina only grinned.

* * *

They left that afternoon. The Ministry seemed pleased that Theseus was complying with the order to take time off, and happily provided a portkey to take them to the Scamander home directly. The four of them stood close together in the Ministry office, each with a hand on a shaking yardstick that had begun to glow blue. Beside her, Jacob had already started to turn slightly green. “Don’t worry,” she heard Newt whisper to their no-maj friend, “it’s much easier the second time.”

“3, 2, 1 - “ the Ministry official finished counting down, and Tina’s stomach lurched as she felt the pull of the portkey. It was a relatively short journey for a portkey, but it was still enough to leave her feeling a little bit unsteady on her feet when the world suddenly stopped moving around them.

Jacob was still clinging to the yardstick, eyes wide and face drained of blood. “I thought you said it would be better this time!” he said, looking at Newt accusingly.

“Was it not?” Newt asked, grinning slightly. “My mistake. Thought it would help. You can drop the yardstick now.”

Jacob made a noise of betrayed annoyance as he released his grip on the yardstick and watched it pop out of existence.

“It does get a little bit easier every time,” Theseus offered, “but even a seasoned portkey traveler can still get a little bit queasy now and then.”

Tina was only half paying attention to the others as she scanned the area where they’d arrived. To her right was a large expanse of the greenest grass she’d ever seen, and in the distance she could see gently rolling hills covered with farmers’ fields and peppered with trees. To their left was the ocean, and they seemed to be standing at the top of a cliff. “Where are we?” she asked.

“Home,” Newt and Theseus said in unison, smiling at each other in a somewhat...conspiratorial way.

Tina looked around again, not seeing any nearby sign of human habitation. “Where?”

“You don’t see it neither?” Jacob asked, turning to her in surprise. “I thought it was just me, you know, on accounta me not being a wizard.”

Newt turned to Theseus, still smiling. “Would you like to do the honors? I know how you like to show off.”

Theseus glared good-naturedly at his brother, then took his wand and pointed it at the air directly in front of them and whispered a spell that Tina had never heard before.

At Newt’s prompting, they all took a few steps forward, and Tina watched as the land in front of them seemed to expand and stretch before her eyes. There had been two large boulders on the ground next to them moments before, and now there was only one. The other, she could see, was now much farther ahead down the path along the cliff.

The sudden expansion of land now revealed a moderately-sized stone cottage nestled among extensive gardens and orchards full of trees, flowers, and all kinds of fruits and vegetables—both magical and non-magical varieties. Beyond the gardens were several structures that Tina assumed to be stables or barns, and all around them she could see hippogriffs freely grazing and scratching at the ground. What was either a large pond or a small lake was set off to one side—a perfect water source for the large creatures. It was beautiful.

“Whoa,” Jacob exclaimed as he took in their surroundings. “How did you—is this like your case? Is all of this just somehow crammed into the space between those two rocks?”

“Well, yes and no,” Newt explained. “It’s not quite like my case, no. That’s possible through the use of quite a few undetectable extension charms to expand the space inside. This is more of a...dimensional fold, if you will.”

“The space exists as is,” Theseus continued, “it’s not extended. But anyone walking by along the path simply passes from one end of the property to the other in one step, none the wiser, while this plot of land remains hidden.”

“That’s quite fun to watch, actually, from in here,” Newt interrupted to add.

“It is,” Theseus admitted, unperturbed by the interruption. “They look like they just sort of...pop out of existence here and reappear over there, but it’s instantaneous. Anyway,” he continued with his explanation,” there are also perception charms in place to muddle the look of the area where the two sides appear to meet—both the ground up here and the face of the cliff—so it’s not an obvious mis-matched line. This way is safer and more convenient than simple concealment charms or muggle-repelling charms. These cliffs are quite popular with the locals as well as tourists, and it would be difficult, not to mention somewhat unfair, to keep anyone from enjoying them.”

“And this way,” Newt added, “The ‘griffs have their own hidden bit of cliff to dive off of and fish from. The edges of the property extend out about half a mile in each direction—out to sea and toward the hills in the distance there—and they’re contained within the boundaries by bands on their legs, not entirely unlike this.” Newt held up his wrist to glare at his own containment band. “It also means they can fly around without being seen in the air by any unsuspecting muggles.”

Tina had heard of such a thing, but had never seen it in practical application. The entire set up was a marvel of well-constructed magic, and she was impressed. “What was that spell you used when we came in?” she asked Theseus.

“Ah,” Theseus grinned, “that’s to ensure that even those who know this place exists can’t just walk in with any revealing spell. It’s a key of sorts—the spell is tied specifically to here, as a sort of...password, if you will. It opens a small section of the fold to allow anyone who casts it to walk in rather than passing to the other end.”

“I’ll teach it to you later,” Newt offered, “in case you’d be outside the border without one of us and would need back in.”

Theseus was grinning at Newt, though exactly why Tina couldn’t say, but he continued. “From inside, the border will visibly glow if you’re approaching it to let you know you’re close.” Theseus took a few steps back the way they’d come in to demonstrate, and Tina watched as a rippling, glowing sort of hazy wall became visible in front of the spot where he was standing. “If you leave though, you’re not in any danger of being locked out, so to speak, as long as someone is here,” he added. “From inside the property line we can of course see people approaching, even if they can’t see us, and anyone who lingers for more than a moment or two near the boulder at the edge here sounds an alarm of sorts that notifies us that someone is there.”

“Like a doorbell?” Jacob asked.

“Precisely,” Theseus nodded.

“So,” Jacob nodded his head toward the direction behind Theseus’ shoulder, “Seeing as how we musta rung the bell, I’m guessing that’s your ma coming toward us.”

Theseus and Newt spun around in unison (the similarities between the two that sometimes unexpectedly occurred made Tina smile) and grinned widely at the woman who was approaching.

Mrs. Scamander was tall, Tina noted. Not quite as tall as Tina herself, but close. Her hair was mostly gray, but streaked with red—a somewhat brighter shade than Newt and Theseus’ ruddy chestnut—and piled onto her head in a messy bun with wavy curls flying loose in all directions. She had the same prominent cheekbones as both her sons, but the wide smile and smattering of freckles across her face were entirely reminiscent of Newt. Newt, Tina could now see, was almost the spitting image of his mother. She was dressed in what looked like a pair of men’s overalls, which she was wiping her hands on as she approached.

“Hello Mum,” Theseus greeted as he enveloped her in a tight hug which she returned just as fiercely.

“Theseus, dear,” she smiled up at him sadly. “I’m glad you’ve come to stay for a while, but I wish it were under happier circumstances.” Her accent, Tina noted, was slightly different from Theseus and Newt’s, though she thought it was still some variety of English. Maybe she’d ask Newt later.

“So do I.” Theseus sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, looking for all the world like a little boy being soothed by his mother’s embrace. Tina supposed that maybe parents never quite stopped having that power even after their children became adults, but it wasn’t as though she had any way of knowing from personal experience.

Mrs. Scamander gently eased away from Theseus’ arms and turned to her other son. Tina watched as she stood in front of Newt, cupped his face with her hand, and simply leaned forward as he did the same, until their foreheads touched. The two stood still like that for a moment, eyes closed, and as she watched Tina realized that this was a mother who understood her sons and what sort of affection they each needed and were most comfortable with. It made Tina like her instantly.

Newt straightened and pulled his mother into a quick hug that appeared to be more for her benefit than his, before stepping away again. “It’s good to see you, Mum.”

“Well,” she replied, “I hear the Ministry has ordered you to stay in the country. Maybe that’s what it’ll take to get you to visit your mother a little more often?” There was no real weight to her scolding, and Tina got the impression that this sort of exchange was common between them.

“I’ll try,” Newt said with a sheepish smile. Newt then turned to Tina and Jacob. “Mum, I’d like you to meet some...um, friends of mine, from New York. Tina Goldstein and Jacob Kowalski.” Tina noticed how he hesitated at the word ‘friends,’ and the way he looked at her somewhat awkwardly, his eyes apologetic. Since confirming that they’d both like to be in a relationship, the need to introduce one another to anyone else hadn’t yet arisen, and he’d no doubt faltered at knowing how to refer to her. She didn’t really mind though. They _were_ friends, of course, and it was much easier to introduce her and Jacob together than separately. Besides, she was pretty sure Theseus had already informed his mother of just who she was to Newt, if the knowing glint in her eye as she looked their way was anything to go by.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she said, smiling widely. “Theseus told me a little about you, but I look forward to getting to know you a bit during your visit.”

“This is a real nice place you’ve got here,” Jacob said, the awe apparent in his voice. “Are those cherry trees? How do you have cherry trees with fruit at this time of year?”

“Magic, Mr. Kowalski!” she laughed, her voice bubbling with kindness. “Theseus tells me you’re a baker. Remind me later and I’ll show you around the gardens and orchards. I’ve got quite a variety, if you’d like some fresh ingredients to try.”

“Abso_lutely_,” Jacob nodded enthusiastically.

“Thank you for having us, Mrs. Scamander,” Tina spoke up, before Jacob could begin asking a million questions about fruit. “I hope it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, of course not, dear! No trouble at all! It’ll be good to have the house full again for a little while. And please, call me Aileana. Or just Ana...Aileana can be a bit of a mouthful.”

“I know the feeling,” Tina replied, smiling with self deprecation. At the questioning look she received, she clarified. “My full name’s Porpentina. There’s a reason I go by Tina.”

Mrs. Scamander laughed in gentle sympathy. “Thank Merlin for nicknames. Anything longer than three syllables is just a bit much, sometimes. But you know what they say—big name, big heart!”

“Nobody says that, Mum,” Theseus sighed as he smiled and shook his head.

“Well, _I _say it, don’t I? Now, come inside, all of you, and get settled in. I’ll put the kettle on, and there are fresh scones baked just this morning.”

_More tea_, Tina thought with a smile as she moved to follow. Newt came up beside her and wordlessly took her hand, glancing sideways at her as if to check that it was okay to do so. She gripped his hand and smiled, and he smiled back. He looked more content than she’d seen him these last few days—maybe more content than she’d _ever_ seen him—as his eyes flitted around to take in his family home. This place had a very peaceful, very _safe_ feeling to it, and she was certain that coming here was going to be the reprieve they all needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, Tina...don't speak too soon.
> 
> Hi, I'm still alive! I'm sorry for being the world's slowest writer, with the world's slowest pacing. I'm one of those people who will yell at an author for daring to apologize for too many words, as though there could be such a thing, but yet here I am apologizing for too many words. The plot, however, has almost fully cemented itself in my head, and some STUFF is gonna go down soon. At least they finally left Newt's house, right?
> 
> What do you think of the Scamander homestead? As soon as I heard about Newt and Tina being retired in Dorset, the first thing that came to mind were those beautiful cliffs, and then I thought "hey, what if that's where Newt's mum lives?" and then I couldn't get the image of soaring hippogriffs diving off the cliff and skimming the water out of my head...something a little different than the traditional country farm setting. I had to find a way to logistically make it work, so I just hid the whole place. Newt'll explain a bit more about his family's history in the next chapter. 
> 
> Also, since I don't think I've mentioned it and I'm sure it's painfully obvious, I'm American. So please do tell me if I have any of the British characters saying or thinking something just...completely wrong, and I'll fix it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt ponders how it feels to be home again, he introduces Tina to an old friend, and the evening doesn't go at all the way he'd hoped.

Newt stepped off the ladder into his case, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He’d come down here under the pretense of wanting to check on everyone after their journey, which was not entirely a lie, but he’d mostly just needed a quiet moment alone with his thoughts. His mum had taken to Tina and Jacob right away, as he’d known she would, and they were currently all in the kitchen making small talk over tea. Tina’d looked comfortable enough, so he hadn’t felt terribly guilty about leaving her for a bit to come down here where it was quiet.

Being back home always gave him a mixture of emotions that were hard to sort through. There was something about the quiet serenity of the homestead and its hidden-away nature that undeniably made him feel peaceful and safe—taking him back to his childhood when things had been somewhat simpler. He did enjoy his visits, very much so. He liked walking along the cliff (and along the beach below) and through the fields and gardens, and, of course, he enjoyed seeing the ‘griffs most of all.

But although being here left him steeped in warm childhood nostalgia, that feeling of being a child again was not always a pleasant one. Especially, it seemed, when it was reinforced by his mum. He doubted that she ever _meant_ to make him feel like a disappointment, but they’d hardly been here any time at all and already she’d mentioned how happy she was that Newt’s book was doing well, because she ‘hadn’t been sure he’d ever settle down long enough to be successful at anything.’ She’d said it with a laugh, teasing, and he didn’t think she’d meant it as a _slight_, necessarily. But much in the same way that he’d never quite felt that his brother saw him as an equal when it came to adulthood, he wasn’t sure his mother saw any of his life accomplishments as actual accomplishments and not just the awkward immature stumblings-around of an odd wayward child.

The book’s success was all anyone wanted to talk about lately, when, to him, it was a project he’d taken on because it had gotten him a fully-funded research expedition. He’d put quite a bit of effort into it, of course, and naturally he wanted people to enjoy it and to change the way they thought about magical beasts. His goal was to educate, and he hoped that the book’s popularity was achieving that. But in his mind he was a magizoologist first and an author second, and he wasn’t certain that anyone else was seeing it that way. He _was_ happy that his book was getting people talking about beasts in a more positive light, of _course_ he was, but with it came the unfortunate side effect of people talking about _him_, and that hadn’t been a possibility he’d considered. It seemed his mum finally had something to brag to her friends about her youngest son, and he couldn’t help but feel like up until this point nothing else he’d done had actually mattered or counted to her. He didn’t feel as though he particularly needed his family’s approval—not ever in his life, really, but especially not at the age of thirty—but it still stung a bit.

He made his way out of the shed and took a quick stroll around the enclosures to make sure everyone was all right. Portkey travel could be a bit disorienting even inside the case, but nobody seemed to be any worse for wear.

The sound of his shed door opening caught his attention.

“Newt?” Theseus called out with his head poking out the door.

“Over here,” Newt replied from where he was making sure the baby nifflers were secure.

“Mum wants to give Jacob and Tina a quick tour outside,” Theseus said as he came over to Newt. “Figured you’d want to join us.”

Newt nodded. “I’ll be up in a moment.”

Theseus seemed to be studying him, head tilted as he attempted to catch his eye. “Everything all right?”

“Yes,” he deflected, “the portkey didn’t upset anyone—all’s quiet down here.”

Theseus narrowed his eyes. “I meant with you.”

“Of course,” Newt feigned ignorance, avoiding his brother’s eyes. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I know how Mum can be,” Theseus replied, shrugging slightly. “You know she didn’t mean anything by what she said. She was just...being Mum.”

Newt did not want to be having this conversation—not now, or ever, really. “Yes, thanks,” he replied, pretending to be busy by fiddling with the lock on the niffler cage, “I know.”

“Newt…” Theseus reached out to touch his shoulder.

“I’m _fine._ I’m not a child, Theseus, I can handle it,” he snapped, flinching away with a bit more force than he’d intended. His eyes rose to his brother’s for a moment before darting away again.

“I know that,” Theseus replied, hand falling away at the rejection. He shoved his hands into his pockets instead.

_Do you?_ Newt wondered, but remained silent.

Theseus, perhaps sensing that Newt didn’t want to continue this line of questioning, sighed and changed the subject. “You know, I didn’t expect that coming here to visit Mum would be so full of memories of Leta. I suppose it makes sense though. It was here where I first met her, after all—that summer that you brought her home to stay with us.”

“I remember,” Newt nodded. “That was the summer that her father was being particularly difficult, and her favorite nanny had finally quit. She could take care of herself by then, of course, but she hadn’t wanted to go home and face the possibility of being alone with him if he decided to stop ignoring her long enough to remember that he hated her.”

“Bastard,” Theseus seethed under his breath. Newt silently concurred.

“It wasn’t as though it was selfless on my part, though. I was more than happy to spend all summer with my best friend.”

Theseus grinned. “You were head-over-heels, you know. I remember. She was in awe of this place, and you were besotted.”

Newt shrugged, not denying it, as a smile pulled at his lips. “Merlin, we were so young. Impossibly young. We thought nothing bad could ever happen and we had all the time in the world to ignore rules and stumble into trouble.”

“Are you implying that _you_ ever stopped?” Theseus asked him, eyebrows raised.

“You know,” Newt reminded him with a good-natured glare, “if it hadn’t been for our tendency to find trouble, Leta and I never would have become friends, and then you two might never have met.”

“True,” Theseus remarked, still smiling, “And although I am sorry for the way things changed between the two of you, you’ll forgive me if I’m selfishly happy that romance never worked out.”

“I can’t say that I’m disappointed myself,” Newt admitted easily, more easily than he might have even just a year ago. “Even if...even if things had been different, we were very different people with little in common other than not fitting in. I might not have known it at the time, but I think Leta did. It was...adolescent infatuation.” He looked off in the distance, sighing wistfully as his thoughts turned to the woman currently in possession of his heart. “But I can’t imagine...not knowing Tina would be…” _ Awful. Unthinkable._

Theseus grinned knowingly. “Being in love as an adult is entirely similar and yet completely different, isn’t it?”

Newt looked up at Theseus from under the curtain of his hair, feeling his face heating. At his brother’s knowing smirk, he looked away again. “Well. I certainly feel just as helpless and silly as I did at fifteen. But it’s also...different. More...realistic. More grounded.”

Theseus nodded, then sighed. After a brief moment of silence, he took a shaky breath and looked at Newt. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to grieve, Newt. I’m supposed to be a mess, aren’t I? But something doesn’t feel _right._ I saw those flames take her—I’m not delusional or in denial. I know she’s gone—I _know_ it—but, in my heart, I don’t _feel_ it. I felt so _angry_ at first, and then numb, just waiting for it to hit me, but now the numbness is gone and I feel...normal. As though she’s alive and well and will be there waiting for me when I get home. I keep telling myself that it just hasn’t fully sunk in yet, but it doesn’t feel like it ever _will_, and I don’t know what to do.”

“It’ll take time, I think,” Newt replied gently. “Time will make it hurt, and then, eventually, time will also ease the pain.”

“That’s what they say,” Theseus sighed. After a moment, he took his hands out of his pockets and gestured toward the shed. “Well, we’d best not keep Mum waiting.”

“Right.” Newt nodded. As he watched his brother enter the shed and begin climbing the ladder, he took a deep breath, sighed, and moved to follow.

* * *

Newt had a very different definition of ‘a quick tour’ than his Mum did, it would seem. They’d spent an hour so far just walking around the gardens while she explained to Jacob how the magic worked to keep things growing all year round. “Invisible greenhouse,” Newt had finally uttered with a bit of a huff. It was an over-simplified explanation, but one which seemed to help Jacob grasp what the magic did. His Mum had given him the same raised-eyebrow look that he’d seen from both her and Theseus more times than he could count, and suggested that maybe he’d like to show Tina the hippogriff stables rather than visiting the beehives with the rest of them. Tina, who seemed to be listening politely but fighting boredom, nodded at the suggestion and turned to him with an eager smile.

And so he found himself strolling toward the stables, Tina by his side.

“Thanks,” Tina said when they were out of earshot, turning to him with an apologetic smile. “Your mother’s nice, but I just didn’t think it was possible to be that interested in plants.”

Newt smiled, not offended in the slightest. “I think even Jacob is starting to get a little overwhelmed. He was mostly interested in new baking ingredients, I think. I don’t think he realized he signed up for a lesson on the entire history of fruit and vegetable cultivation in Britain, both magical and non-magical.”

“Has she always been interested in gardening?” The wind caught Tina’s hair just as Newt turned to reply, and the sight of her smiling face, radiant and windblown in the last remnants of the uncharacteristically sunny day, made him forget for a moment how to form the words to answer her question. She was gorgeous. Tina pushed her hair back behind her ear and gave him a questioning look as he continued to stare at her in silence.

“Um,” Newt finally remembered how to speak, “yes, in a way. She grew up on a farm, just a few miles over from here, actually.” His eyes roved over the hills in the distance, looking toward the direction where her parents’ farm had been. “Her parents were both muggles, you see. They raised sheep, mostly, but grew some crops as well.”

“Were?” Tina asked gently, having taken note of his use of the past tense.

His gaze stayed fixed toward an unseen point in the distance as he was hit with dueling pangs of childhood nostalgia and deep melancholy. “They died when I was young,” he replied, softly. “Influenza. Mum tried to heal them, but as muggles they didn’t respond well enough to the magic. The illness...took hold very quickly.”

“I’m sorry,” Tina whispered, and Newt knew that her sympathies came from knowing what it was like to watch one’s parents die from a disease you couldn’t stop.

“Mum didn’t want to take over their farm, but I think losing them made her miss the country. She sold their land and she and Father bought this place. She’d said she’d always dreamed of living by the cliffs.” He smiled a little, remembering how the move had done them all good, but especially his mum. “The house here is partially constructed from some of the stones from their old house, so Mum could keep a part of their home with her.”

“So you didn’t always live here?” Tina asked.

“No, Theseus and I were both born in London, actually, though he spent much more of his childhood there than I did. It was more convenient for Father to be near the Ministry at the time.”

Tina seemed surprised by that. “He worked for the Ministry? Was he an auror too?”

“No,” Newt said, smiling at the very thought. “Father was much more behind the scenes. He worked in the law department, but he was more involved in creating it than enforcing it, you see. He spent his time behind a desk, working with a lot of old dusty books.”

Tina quirked her head at him and looked like she was trying to hold back a smile. “Is that why you always feared working in an office?”

Newt’s steps faltered and he stopped, turning to stare at her in surprise. “How did you…?”

“Leta,” she replied, expression becoming somber as she slowed her steps to a halt as well. “When we were in Paris, in your case, escaping the Ministry. She saw the state of your workspace in your shed and seemed to find it funny. She mentioned your fear of being stuck at a desk all day.”

“It’s...a perfectly legitimate fear,” he weakly protested, smiling.

“Hey, you’ll get no argument from me. I hate paperwork.”

He looked at her, still smiling. It was one of the things he admired about her—she was a woman of action, prefering to be in the field rather than behind a desk, though at times those actions weren’t perhaps completely thought through. It was, admittedly, something they had in common, he supposed.

A screeching sound broke the moment, as they both turned to see a huge hippogriff barrelling toward them from the direction of the stable, calling out as it ran.

A wide grin broke out on Newt’s face. “Someone’s pleased to see me.”

Tina was, understandably, startled, and took an instinctive step back. She was looking to him for guidance, so he very gently placed himself in front of her and whispered, “keep eye contact with her. I’ll introduce you.”

The beast stopped in front of them with a snort, head held high. Newt kept his eyes fixed on hers as he gave a dramatic bow, grinning a bit as she lowered her body in return. She was excitedly scratching at the ground and snorting, the hippogriff equivalent to amused laughter, he assumed. Formalities now over, the ‘griff lunged forward and bumped her head into his shoulder—a gesture far more playful than most of her species would’ve bothered with. Newt laughed and reached up to stroke the feathers along her neck. “It’s good to see you too, Gracie.”

A squawk of alarm was her only response, her eyes now fixed on Tina, who was still standing behind him. Newt turned to find that Tina was, brilliantly, doing exactly as he’d said and was staring right back. Before he could even instruct her to do so, Tina stepped out from behind him and lowered herself into a very respectful bow. Gracie looked at Tina, head tilted, then looked at Newt, and back to Tina, before chirping and returning the bow. Tina let out her breath in relief as she straightened and smiled. Newt didn’t think it was possible to be more in love than he was right at that moment.

“Tina,” he said, grinning as he watched her watching the hippogriff in awe, “I’d like you to meet Gracewing. She and her mate were Mum’s first ‘griffs. She’s been around here almost as long as we have, haven’t you, Gracie?”

Gracie looked back and forth between them again, chirping excitedly. She then gracefully pranced around in a circle, turned and made a circle in the opposite direction, and finally reared up on her hind legs and let out a joyful-sounding cry. _Oh_. Newt felt his face flush.

“What is it?” Tina asked, noticing his flustered state.

“Um,” he hedged, looking at the ground and wondering if it was too late to claim it was nothing. From the calculating look on Tina’s face, it probably was. “Well, it seems she’s, er...congratulating me. It’s something they do for their fellow hippogriffs when, um…congratulations are in order.”

“Congratulating you for what? I doubt she’s read your book.”

Newt couldn’t help but chuckle at that, albeit a bit awkwardly. He knew he was fully beetroot now. There was no way to avoid it. “Well, she seems to have assumed...that is to say, in her perception, she’s congratulating me on...finding a mate.”

“Oh,” Tina said, softly, her own face flushing to match his. “Well that’s…real sweet of her.” Tina sounded a little flustered as well, but not upset, which he took as a good sign.

Gracie gave a few more happy little chirps at them before becoming distracted by something she was tracking in the grass, likely a field mouse or some other tasty morsel.

“Hippogriffs, you see, are usually rather solitary creatures,” he explained, “but they do mate for life. So if you see two of them together, more than likely it’s a mated pair.” Newt spoke somewhat to the ground, unable to look Tina fully in the eye from the awkwardness of the explanation. “They don’t quite understand the complexities of human social behaviors, and she’s not seen me with anyone other than family since I was young, so she’s apparently come to the conclusion that we’re—” he glanced up to check Tina’s reaction, and his speech faltered. She was giving him that same amused smile that she aimed his way whenever he was awkwardly babbling, and the look in her eyes made him speechless for the second time in barely twenty minutes. She was just so...breathtaking. “—mates,” he finished in almost a whisper.

Tina glanced away, still smiling, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well we are, ya know, dating now. So she’s not too far off.”

_Dating._ Hearing her say it caused his heart to flutter inside his chest. The newness of it all still made his pulse quicken. He and Tina. Together. He’d imagined it for so long that it was almost difficult to believe it was real and not a dream he’d wake up from any moment now. He knew it was, practically speaking, too soon for such thoughts, and definitely too soon to speak them out loud, but all he could think at the moment was that he’d very much like to be her mate. For life.

He took a step toward her, unable to stop the magnetic-like pull his body felt toward hers whenever she was near. “Tina?” he said her name inquisitively, willing her to turn those beautiful eyes back toward him. She did, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the setting sun reflecting in their dark depths. _Fire_ he thought, as his heart beat faster and his head felt light. He felt feverish, as though the fiery light in her eyes had set him aflame. Perhaps it had.

He wanted to kiss her more than he’d ever wanted anything from another human being in his entire life.

His hand was surprisingly steady as he reached up to cup her cheek—his thumb caressing the soft skin he was becoming familiar with by now as his fingers slid back into her hair. She was looking at him expectantly, her eyes wide and her own breath coming out a little bit shaky.

She took her own step forward, closing the gap between them, their bodies nearly touching.

“Newt,” she whispered his name in answer to whatever question he’d asked when he’d addressed her. Her eyes and her tone of voice seemed almost pleading. Their gaze broke for a split second as her eyes almost imperceptibly flitted down to his lips and back, but it was clear enough for his heart to give another little flutter. _She wants to kiss me too_. The realization was the push he needed. He leaned his head toward hers, eyes still locked to make absolutely certain he’d not misread the situation. She gave him a tiny smile as her fingers reached up to brush along his cheek and thread into his hair, mirroring the way he was gently cradling her head, and oh, but that felt..._lovely_. His eyes fluttered shut as his chest flooded with feeling, the last thing he saw before they closed was her face nearing his. He could feel her breath against his lips, knew that all it would take was for him to just lean a fraction of an inch closer, and then…

Cold, wet droplets began pelting his face, and his eyes flew open as he looked up in confusion.

Rain. Tina’s head jerked back with a gasp of shock as the sudden downpour began to pick up speed, instantly soaking them.

They shared a look of stunned surprise as their brains struggled to catch up to what was happening. As caught up in each other as they were, they’d both completely failed to notice the clouds that had rolled in, chasing away the setting sun. Their moment was lost now, fire thoroughly doused by the rain, and the absurdity of the timing caused a grin to break out on his face, laughter bubbling up in his chest. Tina was feeling the same sort of frustrated amusement, it would seem, as she groaned and then began to laugh as well. They all but collapsed against each other, foreheads touching as all their pent-up emotional energy released as near-maniacal grins and giggles.

“Come on,” Newt said, still grinning as he grabbed her hand and nodded toward the house. Behind her he could see Gracie shaking and fluffing her feathers in the rain, enjoying a brisk shower before heading back to the warm shelter of the stable.

With a tug to Tina’s hand, the two of them took off running back to the house, footsteps splashing in the muddy grass as they went. Flustered by the interruption of their moment together as they were, neither seemed to remember that they could apparate until they were already inside the house.

* * *

Later that evening, Newt found himself once again making tea for Tina as he waited for her to finish up her bath. Jacob and Theseus had just gone to Theseus’ old room to play cards, winking and grinning as they mentioned getting out of the way so he and Tina could spend some time alone. Newt had taken the joking in stride, partly annoyed but partly grateful. He _did _want to spend time with Tina, after all. They’d spent dinner glancing bashfully at one another, steeped in a tangible cloud of _awareness_ about what had very nearly happened between them. It wasn’t at all an awkward feeling though, being on the same page as they were, which was...wonderfully new and strange. But he was still undeniably anxious about the whole thing. They’d told each other they wanted to be together. Tina had used the word “dating.” And yet...kissing felt like a step in their relationship that he wasn’t entirely sure how to navigate, inexperienced as he was. At the time it had all seemed so natural, so easy. If the rain hadn’t interrupted when it did their lips would have met—a mutually agreed-upon action they’d somehow silently communicated there in the moment. How could he recreate that, somehow? Where everything would fall into place so naturally—moving _together_ rather than one of them trying to take the lead?

His mother walked into the room just as he was sighing wistfully over the teapot. He hastily straightened, breaking his daydreaming in embarrassment as she smiled at him knowingly.

“Oh, young love,” she sighed, grinning.

Newt looked away, face heating as he snorted slightly. “Not so young, really.”

“Well,” she replied, still smiling, “the love itself is young. I can tell by the way you two can scarcely stop looking at each other.”

Newt didn’t really have a reply to that, so he busied himself with preparing the tea instead.

“I like her,” his mum spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled over them. “She’s sweet, but also strong. She’ll be good for you, I think. Someone to keep you grounded. But,” she continued, “I suppose now that you have your book you won’t need to go running off to Merlin-only-knows where chasing some creature or another anyway.”

Newt frowned. “I’m still a magizoologist, Mum,” he said, mumbling slightly, “I’ll still do field expeditions. Gathering research, you know. Maybe even for a second book.”

“You have a perfectly good job at the Ministry,” his mum insisted. “One that wouldn’t require you to be gone quite so often if you didn’t want to be.”

“But I..._do_ want to be,” he replied. Then, off her look, he hastened to explain. “I enjoy research. I enjoy traveling. It’s not that I want to get as far away from here as I can, if that’s what you’re thinking, but I do greatly enjoy seeing the world as well as all the different beasts that share it.”

“Well,” she said, with a glance toward the band on his wrist, “looks like you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

“No,” he sighed. DId she have to sound so..._smug_ about it?

“And,” she continued, “if things become very serious with Tina, I suppose you’ll be planting yourself more firmly in one place. Putting down roots, you know. She won’t want you being off on some adventure while she’s left behind.”

_Where was _this_ coming from?_, Newt wondered. “Mum, Tina’s an auror. She has her own work that takes her out into the field. And she’d never…” _expect me to stay still. Try to change me. _He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence, so he left it hanging.

She looked like she was gearing up to reply, but just then Tina walked into the room, blowing her hair dry with her wand. She was wearing the pajamas she’d borrowed from him again, a fact which didn’t go unnoticed by his mum. She made a “hmm” sound as she glanced from Tina to Newt, lips and eyebrows quirked. Newt sighed. “Tina didn’t have anything to sleep in when she and Jacob came back to my house the other night. Her things have since arrived from Paris, but I...told her she could keep the pajamas, if she liked them.”

“Well,” his mum said, smirking, “your grandmother would likely be pleased that _somebody_ is wearing them.”

“Your…?” Tina looked at him, eyes questioning.

“My grandmother. On my father’s side. She insists on sending Theseus and I expensive and impersonal gifts every Christmas, despite barely having anything to do with us and not knowing a single thing about us.”

“She knows you’ve written a successful book,” his mum snorted. “This year you’ll probably get a fancy new self-inking quill.”

“I actually wouldn’t mind that,” Newt admitted. “It’d be better than extravagant and uncomfortable sleepwear. I don’t particularly care for silk. It’s too...silky.”

Tina was looking both confused and slightly uncomfortable, glancing back and forth between them and picking at her sleeve. He handed her a mug of tea and gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, my relationship with my father’s side of the family is…”

“Complicated?” Tina finished, returning his smile a little awkwardly.

“To say the least.”

“Well if that’s to be the topic of conversation,” his mum muttered, picking up her mug of tea and heading toward the doorway, “I’m going to bed. Tina, dear, you’ll be in Newt’s old room. Up the stairs, first door on your right. He assures me he’ll be fine sleeping in his case.”

“Yes, Mum,” he replied, “everything’s fine. Good night.”

“Night,” Tina added with a gentle smile.

“Now, don’t stay up too late, you two,” she said with a wink, grinning as she turned to walk down the hall.

Newt groaned and shook his head, but Tina was still smiling. “Your ma’s sweet.”

“She has her moments,” Newt muttered as he picked up his mug and crossed the room to where the kitchen opened up into the sitting room. He looked up to motion to Tina to join him, and found her frowning at him, expression indecipherable. She said nothing though as she moved to follow him, settling down with him on the worn sofa. She pulled her feet up and sat cross-legged, turning to face him as he settled into the opposite side. The way she was sitting, clad in his somewhat too-large pajamas and holding her mug in both hands, made her look altogether..._adorable_. He’d keep that thought to himself, though, for now.

“So,” she began as she blew on the steam rising from her cup, “does your mother not get along with your grandparents?” She frowned as she finished speaking, then hurriedly backpedaled. “You don’t have to answer that, sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosey.”

“It’s quite all right,” Newt waved it off. “Old news, and nothing particularly private.” He sipped his tea and continued. “The Scamanders are a fairly well-established family in Britain. Not one of the best known families, but wealthy and established enough to have a reputation to maintain.” He said it in a slightly mocking tone. “We’re not pureblood, for whatever _that’s_ worth, but there are those in the family who believe we should try to avoid muddying the bloodline regardless. Needless to say, my grandparents did not exactly approve of my father returning home from his final year at Hogwarts with the daughter of poor muggle sheep farmers on his arm, announcing that they were courting and intended to marry very soon.”

“Oh,” Tina said quietly, eyes narrowed. “I see.”

“They didn’t approve, but they were, apparently, civil. Until Theseus arrived a bit sooner than he should have after the wedding, mathematically speaking. It became a small scandal. My grandparents chose to believe it meant the marriage had been one of obligation, especially since my parents were so young at the time, and offered to help my father end it. They had money and influence enough to fight for the dissolution of marriage in a courtroom, which would have left my mother without so much as a knut of the family wealth, and Theseus with no claim to the Scamander name. Father was furious, and, naturally, wouldn’t hear of it. So he walked away from them and didn’t look back.”

Tina was staring at him, her face a mixture of anger and disbelief. “That’s awful.”

Newt nodded. “They didn’t disown him—perhaps believing that he’d one day come to his senses, or perhaps unwilling to effectively end the family line—but they cut him off from his inheritance. Father had his job at the Ministry by that time, so he and Mum managed all right. By the time I came along things had quieted down somewhat, and when I was young we did visit my grandparents a handful of times. But they never did apologize to Mum, and the visits were usually short and tense. Not at all like the visits to our other grandparents’. At the time I didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until Father died that Mum told Theseus and I the whole story.”

He took a sip of tea and gathered his thoughts before continuing. “My grandparents were never particularly warm or friendly to us as children, but they weren’t unkind either. Grandmother has faithfully sent us gifts each Christmas for as long as I can remember. At this point there’s really no need to continue to do so, but she continues anyway. I’d like to believe that it’s their way of trying to show that they care about either of us in any way—but I rather fear it’s because they have no other grandchildren and she’s aware that we’re necessary for the continuation of the Scamander line. It’s all bollocks, of course, especially because there are other Scamanders—cousins and the like—but Theseus is in line to eventually inherit their estate, and, muddied as it supposedly is, the direct continuation of their bloodline is something my grandparents _do_ care about. I suppose she’s trying to get into our good graces so that when they’re gone we won’t sell the place off or burn it down, or something to that effect. They _were_ very pleased when Theseus announced his engagement to Leta. Even sent a short and impersonal note of congratulations. The Lestrange family has had plenty of scandals, but they’re still a respected pureblood wizarding family, and it was seen as a good match.” He scoffed as he said it, annoyed with the old-fashioned view of the importance of blood. He believed people should be able to marry whomever they chose, regardless of family name, wealth, or magical ability. He was fairly certain his grandparents wouldn’t approve of Tina much more than they had his Mum, and that thought made him feel rather good, actually. She was better than they’d ever be.

He looked up to find Tina with her eyes downcast, expression now sad rather than angry. “What was he like?” she asked, looking up. “Your father, I mean.”

Newt struggled for a moment, unsure of exactly how to describe the man who he’d never really gotten to know as an adult. “He was...quiet. Stern, but never angry. Not in an explosive way, at least. Sometimes I think that was worse than outright anger would’ve been—that feeling that you’d disappointed him. And I think I was...often very disappointing. I didn’t take the things he thought were important seriously enough, and the things I cared about were things he deemed silly or useless. I didn’t take the right classes, wasn’t pursuing the right career options...that sort of thing. We didn’t often see eye-to-eye, but he wasn’t a bad father. Looking back, I think he was trying to be different from his own parents, but their influence was all he’d known, and he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. He wanted Theseus and I to be successful, I think, because he wanted us to be safe, so to speak. Self reliant. I do understand why, now, though I still don’t agree with his idea of what is or isn’t important.”

Newt hadn’t spoken this much at once in a very long time, if ever, and took a long drink of tea to clear his throat. What was it about Tina that made him want to never stop talking to her? Perhaps it was the way she actually listened to him, where others got annoyed or bored, or they interrupted. She was genuinely interested in his family history, and although it wasn’t particularly his favorite subject, he wanted to tell her everything.

Tina’s fingers were nervously tapping against the side of her mug, her eyes not meeting his, as she frowned and opened her mouth as though to ask a question, then thought better of it. Finally, she looked back at him and, hesitantly, asked, “how did he die? If it’s not too painful to talk about.”

It wasn’t. Not anymore. Not for him, anyway. “The war,” Newt answered quietly. “All three of us—Father, Theseus, and I—were stationed at the Eastern front, but each in different squadrons. I was enlisted to do experimental work with dragons, so I didn’t really see any actual combat. Father was a scout, and one day his squadron was called to go into a village not far from where they were stationed at the time. The village had been attacked, and their mission was to locate and rescue any survivors. They’d been assured that the attack was over and the enemy gone, but then an enemy owl was intercepted by Theseus’ company, who were miles away, and they learned that it was a trap. Father’s squadron had been set up for an ambush. As owls were often intercepted or shot down, Theseus was enlisted to fly there and warn them to call off the rescue mission. He was quite fast and agile on a broom—he’d been a seeker for his quidditch team at Hogwarts, you know—so he had the best chance of reaching them in time.” Newt paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “He was nearly shot down several times, and took a paralyzing curse to his side that I’m sure made flying difficult, but he made it. The rescue was called off, but not before the first group of scouts had already gone in to assess the situation.” He sighed softly. “Father had been in that group. They were killed instantly, we were told—they weren’t tortured and didn’t suffer—but that knowledge did little to ease the shock of it. Theseus’ quickness and bravery saved many lives that day, but one of the few that were lost hurt the most. He returned home a war hero, but he’s always hated that title. I’m not even sure he kept the medal they gave him. I suspect he’s never stopped blaming himself for not being faster, even though he broke every broom speed record in existence.”

“Morrigan’s tailfeathers,” Tina whispered. There were tears in her eyes. “That’s a helluva thing to have to live with.” Newt nodded.

“Theseus came here then, too, after the war, even though he had his own flat in London by that time. There’s a certain solace to be found here, I think. The safety of being hidden away.”

“It is peaceful here,” Tina agreed. “And your ma’s very welcoming. I’m sure she’s a comfort as well.”

“Mostly,” Newt half-agreed, giving a slight nod as he looked away. He glanced back to find Tina frowning at him again.

“Is there something I’m missing, here?” she asked. “You seem comfortable with her, but that’s twice now that you’ve insinuated that she’s not as sweet as she seems.”

Newt sighed. “My relationship with my mother is—”

“Are you going to say ‘complicated’ again?” Tina cut him off.

Newt looked away, grimacing. “My relationship with most people is complicated, Tina.” He met her eyes briefly before looking away again, unable to hold her scrutinizing stare. “If you must know, Mum can be difficult at times. She thinks I should spend more time and effort at my office at the Ministry, trying to advance there rather than doing fieldwork or research. She’s never quite approved of my being a magizoologist. Her ‘jokes’ are often thinly veiled criticisms, and it’s...unpleasant, sometimes. You heard what she said earlier, that she’s proud of my book because I’ve finally settled down long enough to be successful at something. That was a rather back-handed compliment.”

“But it’s clear that she loves you,” Tina protested.

“Yes,” Newt agreed without hesitation. “She does. And I love her. You can still be hurt by those who love you, you of all people should know that.”

That was a bit too far, he knew, as he watched her eyes narrow and turn cold. “You’re right, but that was a cheap shot.” He really hadn’t meant it to be, but before he could apologize for speaking without thinking, she continued. “Your mother cares about you, and only wants to see you succeed. Even if she doesn’t always say it in the best way, moping about it makes you sound like a child.”

Newt glared, all thoughts of apology dissolving at her words. She had no way of knowing she’d hit a sore spot with her comment, but it annoyed him just the same. He wasn’t sure where this argument had suddenly come from, but he was not liking it one bit. “I’m _not_ a child,” he spat, “but she still treats me like I am, and it’s _tiresome_.”

“Sure, but parents are still gonna act like parents sometimes, even when you’re an adult,” she countered.

“Yes, well, you wouldn’t know from experience, would you?”

Newt heard the words leaving his mouth in horror, desperately wishing he could put them back in, but it was too late. Tina was staring at him, mouth open in shock. The same shock that he was sure was mirrored on his own face. He’d often in his life said things without thinking, he’d often been unintentionally blunt or brusque, but he hadn’t thought he was capable of being _cruel_.

Tina’s eyes turned ice cold as her expression went blank. She slowly set her teacup down on the side table and stood. “I’m going to bed,” she said flatly, and moved to walk away.

He finally snapped out of his stunned state. “Tina, wait!” he cried, calling after her. “I’m sorry, I...I don’t know why I...I didn’t _mean_…”

“Goodnight, Newt,” she replied as she walked out of the room, her tone clearly saying ‘don’t follow me.’ It wasn’t a good sign that she was being so calm, he knew. Angry Tina shouted. Hurt Tina closed herself off.

He dropped his head into his hands, shaking it as he gripped his hair hard enough to hurt. _Idiot! _ he berated himself, utterly disgusted. He’d buggered this whole thing up. He’d intended to spend some time alone with her this evening in order to have a pleasant conversation. He’d hoped things might fall into place to where they could continue where they’d left off earlier that day before they’d been interrupted by rain. Instead he’d told his family’s entire depressing history, callously brought up her sister’s betrayal, and then pointed out that her parents were dead. Tears welled up in his eyes as he recalled what he’d said, and how easily he’d said it. He wouldn’t blame her if she stayed angry with him for a very long time.

_“Fuck,”_ he whispered to the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, friends, it's been a minute, hasn't it? I'm incredibly sorry for the very long delay. Since my last chapter, there's been a global pandemic shutting everything down (you may have heard about it), I've been working from home during a time when work has been busy so that's a fun new sort of stress to discover, my husband and I bought a house and have been busy planning our move, and my pet snake who is nearly 17 and has been with me my entire adult life had a lump removed from his back that was cancerous, didn't heal, and which I now have to treat daily while we wait and see how much more time he has until the cancer spreads and his quality of life diminishes to the point that it's time to say goodbye. The past few months have been an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least, and my writing muse and ability to focus has flown the coop. I am NOT abandoning this though, I promise.
> 
> This chapter hurt. It's also extremely exposition-heavy, which I know is generally frowned upon (huuuuge chunks of exposition = boring), but it was the topic of conversation so it made sense, and I have no idea where else I'd fit it all in. My view is that Newt's relationship with his Mum is much like his relationship with Theseus—loving, certainly, but...complicated. I got the vibe from Theseus in canon that he can be a bit condescending to Newt, and so I ran with that, and with the idea that Newt's a tad sensitive about being talked down to and treated like a child. It's projecting, for sure, because it's a bit how I feel about how my older sister and my mother treat me. Maybe it's cathartic to work it out through a fictional character.
> 
> I chose to separate Newt's family into more firmly divided sides, and to make the stuffy, estate-having, wealthy Scamanders separate from his hippogriff-breeding mum. I thought it'd be more interesting that way.
> 
> I don't know WHERE that idea came from to tie their father's death in with how Theseus became a war hero. I wrote their father as deceased because I thought it would add a little interesting tension in that bit in chapter 3 where Theseus confronts Newt about never telling them the real reason for his expulsion, but then I got hit with that idea and decided to go with it. Did I borrow heavily from the plot of 1917? Maybe. I've been very cruel to Theseus' emotional state in this fic. I'm gonna try to fix that a little, I promise.
> 
> It's canon that Tina and Newt can bicker with the best of them, but a genuinely hurtful argument right when they're on the cusp of advancing their relationship? I'm cruel. I debated with myself for a while about whether or not Newt can say "fuck," and eventually decided that Newt can, and probably does, say fuck, but he saves it for situations where it's most appropriate. We won't ever hear him say it in canon because family movies, blah blah, so it doesn't feel quite in-character to me for it to be thrown around often, but this seemed the situation for it. It's a nice PG-13 fuck...he gets to use it once.
> 
> Anyway, before this note becomes as long as the chapter itself, THANK YOU to all who are still reading. I'm still writing this, just...very slowly, and your support means the world. <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insight, and resolution.

Tina awoke the next morning feeling entirely unrested. She’d slept, some, but not well. Her argument with Newt kept playing over and over in her mind, and her gut felt sick with a swirl of warring emotions—anger, hurt, sadness, and...a little bit of guilt, for having pushed him. He’d hurt her with his callous words, but after she’d stewed about it in bed for a long while as sleep evaded her, she had reluctantly admitted to herself that he hadn’t exactly been _wrong_. She really _didn’t_ know what it was like to relate to one’s parents as an adult—in fact, hadn’t she just been thinking that very thought earlier in the day yesterday? But she didn’t understand how someone could have a loving parent and take that for granted in any way, as it seemed Newt was doing, especially since he’d already lost his father. She’d give anything to have her parents with her still. The reminder that they weren’t had been hitting her extra hard lately, in the wake of Queenie going to Grindelwald’s side. Queenie was the only family she had, and now...

Tina sighed and rolled onto her back, changing her view away from the blank wall she’d been staring at to take in the rest of the room, which was now bathed in the morning light streaming in through the window. She hadn’t paid much attention last night—as upset as she’d been she’d not wanted any more reminders of Newt and had turned off the light as soon as she’d gotten into bed—but now she couldn’t help but look around. The room was plain, for the most part—a wardrobe across from the bed and a small desk in the corner were the only other pieces of furniture—but there were small hints of Newt scattered about. There were old school books stacked on the desk, and a small flag with “Hufflepuff” stitched across it tacked to the wall. Also tacked along the wall by the desk were a few sketches of various creatures, the style recognizable from the illustrations in Newt’s book, though these were a bit rougher; less practiced. She recognized Pickett as the subject of one of the drawings and smiled, imagining a young Newt trying to convince his twiggy friend to hold still while he was being sketched. The mental image caused her to frown and look away with a bittersweet sigh.

She supposed she couldn’t stay in bed avoiding everyone all day. At some point she was going to have to get up and face Newt, so it might as well be now. She got up, dressed, and made her way down the stairs to the kitchen, a false smile plastered on her face. 

She surveyed the room in a quick glance as she entered, relieved to find that Newt was nowhere in sight. She could avoid him for a little while longer, then.

“Mornin’ Tina!” Jacob called out as he noticed her presence. He and Newt’s mother were the only occupants of the kitchen, and from the look of it they’d gotten an early start. There were plates of pastries on nearly every surface. Some Tina recognized as Jacob’s magical beast creations, but some of them were varieties she’d never seen before. 

The two of them were covered in flour. “We’ve been baking the muggle way,” Jacob proudly announced, motioning toward the stack of dirty dishes piled around the sink.

Newt’s mum laughed. “I didn’t grow up in a magical household, you know. Using magic is convenient, but sometimes I still like to get my hands in the dough and do it manually. Good stress relief, I’ve always thought.” Her line of sight shifted to the sink and she frowned. “Though…” she pulled out her wand, “there’s definitely an advantage to having magic when it comes to the washing up.” She delicately waved her wand to fill the sink with soapy water and charm the dishes into washing themselves.

“I do wish I could do _that_,” Jacob shook his head and sighed wistfully. He picked up a clean plate and held it out to Tina. “Grab some breakfast—we’ve got plenty.” He looked around, as if just noticing how many pastries they’d made. “We, uh, may have gotten a little carried away.”

“Nonsense!” Newt’s mum rebutted. “They’ll keep. We can always put some in stasis to stay fresh.”

“What, you can do that? Just sorta...freeze ‘em?” Jacob stared, blinking slowly. “Now, that’s just completely unfair.” She laughed, and Tina smiled.

Tina’s nose twitched as she suddenly caught a whiff of a different scent among all the pastries. “Is that…?”

“Oh!” Jacob turned to the counter behind him and proudly held up a carafe. “Coffee!”

Oh, but she could absolutely use a strong cup of coffee. The lack of restful sleep was really catching up to her, and while tea was all well and good, it didn’t pack quite the same punch. She all but leapt toward Jacob, grabbed a cup and filled it, and then held it up to her nose to inhale the glorious fragrance. Her eyes closed in bliss and she sighed. Today of all mornings, she needed this.

When she opened her eyes, she found Newt’s mum smiling, but giving her a somewhat calculating stare at the same time. 

“It’s good strong stuff,” she said, eyebrows raised, “Newt brought it back from somewhere in Africa—Ethiopia, I think.” She tilted her head, looking Tina up and down. “if you don’t mind my saying, you look like you could use it.” Tina frowned into her cup, not wanting to discuss why she hadn’t slept. “You know,” she continued, “Newt looked much the same this morning.” Tina raised her eyes back up at that. _Oh._ “Neither of you look like you got much sleep last night, and from the looks on your faces I’m assuming it’s not because you were occupied with each other.”

Tina felt her face flush at the insinuation, but she averted her gaze back into her coffee cup, not wanting to discuss her relationship snags with the mother of the man in question.

“I know how Newt can be,” she continued, as if reading TIna’s thoughts. “He’s a bit different, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, and I’ve never loved him any less because of it, but sometimes he doesn’t seem to think before he speaks or acts.”

Tina frowned. It was true, but there was something about the easy assignment of fault and the tone of her words that was rubbing Tina the wrong way. “If something happened, what makes you think he’s the one to blame?”

“Because I know him,” she replied with a sort of nonchalant certainty that made Tina bristle slightly. “He’s impulsive and flighty—always has been. Surely you’ve realized that. I’d hoped you might help bring him back down to earth a bit, maybe keep him in one place for more than five minutes. And that maybe spending more time around another human would teach him to stop annoying everyone at the Ministry by saying whatever he thinks all the time. That you might, you know...tame him a little, so to speak.”

Tina was baffled by the turn the conversation had taken. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss where Newt was coming from when it came to his feelings regarding his mum. “Why would I want to do that?” she replied sincerely, boldly meeting the other woman’s gaze. “Newt can be impulsive, yes. He breaks the law when it’s inconvenient for him, and he usually jumps into dangerous situations without a plan. He’s stubborn and kind of...infuriating at times—and yes, I know very well that he can be blunt and a little prickly, but,” she shrugged, “who isn’t, sometimes?” She sighed, suddenly overcome with a wave of protectiveness toward the man who she’d so quickly developed a fondness for precisely because of who he was. “But he’s also incredible. If you’ve never seen him at work with beasts—if you’ve never seen the bravery, the compassion, the...the _connection_ he has with creatures—you don’t know how wonderful and talented your son truly is. He’s saved so many lives. And you must not realize that he cares about people too, even if he’s not always so good with them. And,” Tina stretched to her full height, puffing up a bit in her defense of Newt, “he’s not the only one who can be careless with his words.”

Mrs. Scamander blinked in surprise, looking a bit taken aback. “Well,” she said in a way that made the one word an entire statement by itself. Then, surprisingly, a slight smile softened her features. “Seems that Newt has perhaps met a kindred spirit after all.”

Tina wasn’t sure what to say to that, having not quite expected the other woman to meet her tirade with a smile instead of a fight, so she picked up her plate and set it on top of her coffee cup. “I think I’ll eat my breakfast outside,” she said as she made her way to the door and pushed it open, not bothering to look back as she walked out.

When they’d arrived yesterday she’d thought she’d seen a bench down the path from the house that overlooked the cliffs and the ocean, and made her way in that direction in the hope of finding a quiet moment alone. She liked the ocean—watching the rolling waves had a way of calming her, somehow.

She stopped abruptly as the bench came into view, finding that it was currently occupied. Theseus was leaning back on the bench with his feet propped up on a rock, nursing a steaming mug. Not wanting to disturb him, she quietly turned to move away, but unfortunately not before he saw her.

“Tina!” he called to her with a smile as he sat up straighter and scooched over to free up more space on the bench, “come join me.”

She could decline, she supposed, but it was pretty obvious that she’d been heading in that direction. It would be a little awkward if she tried to pretend that she’d suddenly changed her mind, so she gave him a half-hearted smile and continued down the path. She’d wanted to be alone, but there was nothing about Theseus that she found particularly bothersome, in the short time that she’d known him, so she didn’t suppose he’d be bad company.

She sat down next to him on the bench, gingerly setting her coffee cup and plate on the arm of it as she settled. Glancing to the side, she noticed Theseus studying her.

“You all right?” he asked, then, not waiting for a reply, frowned and said, “Did you come out here without a coat?”

_Oh._ She had. And, now that she was no longer heated by indignation and her brisk walk down the path, she could feel the chilly ocean breeze blowing up from the cliff. “I’m fine,” she lied.

Theseus, she could tell, wasn’t buying it. Her sudden shivering probably didn’t help to sell the fib, either. “Here,” he said as he set his cup down and began shrugging out of his coat, “take mine.”

“Really, I’m fine,” she began to protest, but he silenced her with a look. 

“This jumper is plenty warm on its own, and I’m going to be heading back inside in a moment anyway. If you came out here without a thought of putting on a coat, I’m guessing you’re in no hurry to go back inside to get it, so, here—” he stood to remove his coat completely and held it out to her—”I insist.”

“Thanks,” she said as she joined him in standing so she could pull her arms through the long coat and wrap it around her. It felt a little bit awkward being bundled up in a coat that smelled faintly like the aftershave of a man she barely knew. It was odd and slightly uncomfortable, like hotel bed sheets—that feeling that you shouldn’t tuck them around your face because they weren’t _yours_. But the coat was warm, and she appreciated the heavy wool against the morning chill.

Tina sat back down and Theseus joined her, picking up his cup from where he’d left it. She caught a whiff of its contents as he lifted it to his lips. “Coffee?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“You sound surprised,” he returned with a smile as he lowered his cup.

“I’ve been offered so much tea since I’ve been in this country, I wasn’t expecting your ma to even have coffee, let alone drink it. To find you with it too seems against all odds.”

Theseus let out a gentle laugh. “Newt drinks it too, you know.” She gave him an incredulous look, which he noted with a smile. “Oh, if given the choice he prefers tea like a proper Englishman, and he usually doesn’t take his coffee black, but he’ll occasionally drink it the way they do in Italy or France—brewed strong with hot milk added. Sometimes sugar. Newt’s got a bit of a sweet tooth.”

She _had_ noticed _that_, but the coffee drinking was news to her. “He never once had any while he was in New York,” she recalled. “I figured he just didn’t like it.”

“Hmm” Theseus remarked around his cup as he took a sip and lowered it again. “That’s because American coffee is shite.”

“Excuse me?” Tina’s muffled voice spat out with her mouth full of raspberry pastry, manners forgotten in her indignation. 

He grinned. “It’s always somehow too weak and too bitter at the same time, I’m not sure how you manage it. Much the same way you manage to ruin tea, though, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Tina glared as she finished off her breakfast. “Did you invite me to sit here just so you could insult my country?”

“No,” he laughed. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll fully admit the Brits are even worse when it comes to coffee. My country seems to have taken a shine to that vile instant stuff you lot shared with us during the war, but even a cup made with fresh beans and magic doesn’t taste quite right here. We’ve not managed to get the spell exactly right, I suppose, preoccupied as we are with tea, though the house elves at Hogwarts manage it better than most. For the rest of us it’s only good when brewed one of the muggle ways, it seems. But Mum quite enjoys it, so Newt always makes an effort to bring back the best beans from his travels.”

“This _is_ very good,” Tina admitted, taking a sip. His words registered and she frowned. “If she likes it so much, why does she want Newt to stop traveling?” It was a weak protest, she knew, but she was still upset and could admit to herself that she felt like being a little petty.

Theseus puffed out his cheeks and blew the air out, an action that caused Tina to be hit with a jolt of familiarity. It was sometimes easy to forget that Newt and his brother really did share some similarities. “Well,” he replied with a tired smile, “that’s a layered question.” He downed the last dregs of his coffee and then slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees and fiddling with the now empty cup. “Mum loves Newt—”

“So everyone keeps saying,” Tina cut him off. “That statement’s usually followed by a ‘but’.”

“_But_,” Theseus continued, giving her a pointed look, “she worries about him. She’s always worried about him, since he was a boy. I worry about him too. Newt’s…” he trailed off, frowning as he appeared to be searching for the right description. “Well, he’s _Newt_. He’s a bit...different.”

“Your mum said that as well. It’s not a bad thing, you know.”

“I do,” Theseus nodded, giving her a completely sincere look, “now more than ever before. Because,” he said with a sigh, “I’ve not been fair to my brother, and neither has Mum. I realize that now. We’ve always worried about him—his difficulty making friends, his preoccupation with beasts, the way he manages to antagonize almost everyone, especially those in positions of authority—and each of us has somehow failed to notice that he’s now a grown man who is fully capable of worrying about himself without us doing it for him. He doesn’t need me anymore. He probably never did.”

“You’re his brother, Theseus,” Tina said, fixing him with a look that was sympathetic but somewhat scolding. “He needs you, but he needs you to be a _brother_, I think, and not another authority figure to antagonize.”

Theseus smiled weakly. “I’m realizing that, too.”

“Yeah, well,” Tina sighed. “Not that I can really talk. Shoulda taken my own advice.”

They briefly gave each other a look of pained empathy—an understanding between older siblings, and between aurors. It was tough, sometimes, to be both at the same time.

“It’s not that Mum, or I, don’t want Newt to travel,” Theseus broke the short silence that had settled over them. “Not really. It’s that Newt isn’t very forthcoming with plans or details, if he even mentions that he’s leaving at all. He often just flies off somewhere chasing Merlin-knows-what, barely bothering to write if he’s gone for long. We don’t know if he’s alive or injured or in prison somewhere. That’s what Mum means when she says she wants to see him settled, and that’s why she pushes so hard for him to try to make more of an effort at the Ministry. She wants to know where he is and that he’s safe, and she wants him to have a stable career that he can eventually retire from. She worries about him.”

“I can understand that,” Tina nodded, “but he might make more of an effort if you _tell_ him that. The nitpicky comments and disapproving looks and scolding make him think you see him as a child needing to be controlled and disciplined. Just saying ‘let us know you’re okay because we care about you’ would go a lot farther than reprimands and criticism, I bet. I know it’s frustrating sometimes, but you can’t expect him to stop running off to help some creature in need. That’s who he is. He’ll ignore everything else to go after what’s important to him.”

“Oh, I know,” Theseus replied, eyebrows raised. “Like, say, violating his travel ban to run off to Paris, which the Ministry thought was on Dumbledore’s orders, but which _may_ have had more to do with having discovered the whereabouts of a certain rogue American auror?”

“I…” Tina felt her face heating. “...don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hmm,” Theseus smirked. “I’m sure.” He fixed her with a look she couldn’t quite decipher, though the amused smile hadn’t left his face. “Well,” he finally said as he moved to stand, “I’m going back inside. Should you want to seek my brother out, you’ll most likely find him in the stables. That’s where he spends most of his time when he’s here.” He looked at his empty cup and grinned. “Here,” he said, waving his wand to summon coffee, milk, and sugar into the cup—heated to steaming, “give him this if you find him. He looked like hell when I caught a glimpse of him earlier, and he’ll likely appreciate it.”

She hung her head a bit at the reminder of what had happened the night before. “Oh,” she said, taking the cup. “Thanks.”

Theseus was still looking at her, every bit the calculating auror. “Tina, please don’t think I’m defending Newt, or that I support everything he does, because I’m not and I don’t. I know we Scamanders can be right idiots and I’m sure that the bags under both of your eyes are at least partly, if not entirely, his fault. But I think I’d be remiss in my brotherly duties if I didn’t have this conversation.”

She looked at him quizzically. “What conversation?”

Theseus sighed and looked off into the distance for a moment before looking back at her. “Newt obviously thinks very highly of you. It's not a hard and fast rule, mind, but we don't usually offer to teach the property entrance spell to anyone outside of the family. That he so easily offered it to you says a lot. I just want you to be aware that Newt tends to be very loyal toward the people who he considers his friends. To a fault, some might say.” His eyes pierced into hers. “Please don’t ever take advantage of that.”

“Or I’ll have to answer to you?”

“I believe this conversation’s supposed to go something like that, yes,” he replied, eyes softening a bit as he smiled weakly. “I don’t know you well,” he continued, “but from what I’ve seen I don’t believe it’ll be an issue.”

“Well,” she said, “I don’t plan on it. Not intentionally, anyway.”

“Good,” he nodded, then shivered and rubbed his hands together to warm them. “I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to walk away.

“Theseus?” she called gently, before he could leave. He looked back at her. “I’m real sorry about Leta. With all the mess and everything with my sister, I didn’t say anything earlier, but...I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” he sighed, and smiled sadly. “Thank you.” He paused for a moment, then shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. “I’m going to have a small ceremony later. Mum thinks it might help me to accept...everything. Nothing much, just family.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “I’d like you to be there, if you want. Newt, I’m sure, would like it as well.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling an unexpected surge of emotion at the implication that she was being considered ‘family.’ “Of course.”

He nodded, gave her another weak smile, and turned to walk back to the house.

Tina thought about his words for a moment. She’d seen the look on Theseus’ face while watching Newt talk to Dumbledore on the viaduct at Hogwarts. It was the same look he’d been wearing a moment ago. Did Dumbledore take advantage of Newt’s loyalty? She didn’t know enough about the man to know. Newt seemed to respect him, and she knew that Newt was perceptive and unlikely to be completely unaware if he was being manipulated. She would watch Dumbledore more closely though, if they met again.

She also found herself wondering, not for the first time, what had happened between Newt and Leta. She’d been needlessly jealous of the other woman, she now knew, but she’d clearly been very special to Newt at one time, and when he spoke of her he always looked like it hurt to talk about. Had she taken advantage of him? Tina doubted it was as simple as that, or, based on the polite warning she’d just received, Theseus surely wouldn’t have been about to marry her. Newt hadn’t provided any details about why he and Leta hadn’t been close since school, and she’d not wanted to ask. There was a part of her, she could admit to herself, that wanted to avoid finding out just _how_ close they’d been, though she knew it was silly of her to be jealous of the past. The way Newt had looked at her yesterday as they’d stood in a field in the setting sun had been more than enough to make her question why she’d ever thought that the spark she’d felt between them wasn’t reciprocated. She wanted to be done doubting, but old insecurities were hard to completely banish.

She sighed, getting up from the bench, and turned to look in the direction of the stables. She didn’t think she doubted Newt’s feelings anymore, but she knew that after last night they definitely needed to talk.

The walk to the stables passed much more quickly than Tina would’ve liked, even though she purposefully took her time. It was inevitable that she’d have to face Newt, but she wished she could somehow move forward in time to a point where they’d already talked and were back to the way they were before last night. 

The main building, she noted as she approached, was fairly small and unassuming, so it shouldn’t have surprised her at all to walk through the door and find that the inside stretched out into a much larger space than the outside would indicate. Newt must not be the only one in his family with a knack for extension charms. She had no idea how she was going to find him now, though, short of shouting.

It turned out to not be an issue, however, as the hippogriffs began chirping and rustling about as they caught sight of her—a stranger in their midst. 

“Tina?” Newt’s voice called softly from somewhere above her head. She looked up to find his head leaning out from a hayloft of sorts, large enough for the hippogriffs to fly up to and gather straw for nesting.

“Hi,” she replied, smiling weakly. The only thing preventing her from laughing at the state of his hair—which was tousled into even more of a mess than usual and sporting a few pieces of straw sticking out of it—was the very serious and somewhat apprehensive look on his face. “Can I come up?” she asked.

“Oh. Um, yes,” he replied, nervously. He was looking at her like he expected her to hex him at any moment.

She apparated to the loft, and her expression immediately softened as she took in the sight before her. Newt was nestled into a pile of straw, his back resting against the feathered body of Gracewing, who had curled protectively around him. Lying next to him with its head in his lap was a smaller hippogriff, fast asleep despite the human voices. It looked very...domestic.

“This is one of Gracie’s hatchlings from the spring,” he explained as he gently stroked the beast’s feathers. “He’s a bit smaller than the others, but he’ll catch up. He seems to have taken a shine to me,” he said softly, smiling somewhat sheepishly.

_Who can blame him?_ she thought as she sat down near him. “Theseus told me to bring you this,” she said as she extended the still-steaming cup in his direction.

Newt took the cup—careful not to brush her fingers, Tina noted with a pang of sadness—and raised it to his lips. “Coffee?” he asked as he lowered the cup, frowning at the apparently unexpected scent.

“Yeah,” Tina replied, confused. “Theseus said you drink it occasionally. That you like it.”

“_Very_ occasionally,” he snorted, “I don't dislike it, exactly, but I only drink it if tea’s not available, and I happen to know that tea very much _is _available. Though…” he took a long sip and sighed. “The stronger dose of caffeine is appreciated. And he did put milk and sugar in it. But I think my brother was winding you up a bit.”

“I don’t know,” she replied, “he said pretty much exactly what you just did. I think maybe he knows you a little better than you think he does.”

Newt snorted and looked away. “He’s an auror. He’s observant. Remembering my beverage preferences is hardly knowing me.”

She frowned at his easy dismissal. “He may not always be the best at showing it, but I think he really does care about you, Newt.”

There was a long pause. “I know,” Newt finally said with a sigh, still avoiding her eyes. An awkward silence filled the loft as they sat there, neither looking at the other.

Tina was tired of silence. Why was this so _hard?_

“Look,” she said quietly, but not without strength, “I didn’t come here to push you into another argument about your family.”

“Why _did_ you come here?” Newt asked weakly as he stared at his coffee cup. He looked so utterly defeated, and it suddenly dawned on her that his behavior—the fearful apprehension she’d seen in his eyes, followed by this sort of...petulant hopelessness—was because he thought she was _angry_. 

“I came here to _apologize_.”

He looked up at her then, meeting her eyes with a surprised expression. “Whatever for?”

“For exactly what I just said!” she replied, a little too loudly as the frustration in her voice took over. “I shouldn’t have pushed you about your family. You were right that it’s not something I know anything about, and I _may_ have had a slight...confrontation with your mother this morning that leads me to believe you’re not entirely wrong about how she treats you.”

“You…” Newt was staring. The shock gave way to a hesitant smile pulling the corners of his mouth, like he was trying to fight it. “I would’ve loved to have seen that.”

“Ask Jacob, he’ll fill you in,” she said, smiling back with equal hesitation.

The baby hippogriff stirred, turning his head to shoot a perturbed look at the humans who were disturbing his nap. With a tiny squawk, he flopped off of Newt’s lap and moved to curl up by his mother’s head instead. Gracewing nuzzled the little one as he yawned and fell back to sleep, then turned to cock her head at them, an amused sort of expression in her beady eyes as she observed the humans in her makeshift nest. Her beak stretched open into her own yawn as she set her head back down and continued dozing, apparently not finding them interesting enough to keep watching.

Newt looked toward the creatures with a gentle smile, then turned back to Tina. His smile faded as he once again seemed to crumple in on himself. “You really have nothing to apologize for, Tina” he told her softly. “You weren’t wrong either. About me. There’s something about being around my family that does make me feel like a child again, and I know I can be a bit…” he trailed off, seeming to struggle to find the right word. “Well. You saw.”

“Yeah, but your family’s not blameless either. The way your ma talked about you got _me_ upset, I’d guess it’s worse for you.”

“I don’t fully understand it,” Newt said with a sigh. “Mum’s a bit unconventional herself. Not really one to try to fit in. But she’s always been perfectly content to stay in one place, and she doesn’t understand why I can’t.” He turned to look at her, meeting her eyes briefly as he looked up through his hair. “But you do, I think.”

“Yeah,” she replied, trying to offer him a smile, but he’d already looked away again. “You’re not a beast that can be tamed. Neither am I.” He didn’t look at her, but he did quirk his lips into a slight smile at that. She sighed. “I did talk with Theseus a little bit, and I think...neither of them _mean_ to be so...you know. They worry about you, especially when you’re away, and they don’t know how to tell you that without sounding critical. But that’s no excuse for being so...condescending. I’m sorry I didn’t see it or believe you. I shouldn’t have pushed the issue.”

“No,_ I_ shouldn’t have snapped at you,” Newt insisted. “I was insensitive and cruel.” He raised his eyes to seek out hers, and she saw the wetness in them. “I don’t ever want to hurt you, Tina.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I know,” she sighed, giving him a tentative smile. “I don’t want to hurt you either. And yet…” she shrugged. “We hurt each other anyway. I was also to blame, I know that.”

He looked like he was going to protest again, so she held up a hand to stop him. “We’re not gonna argue about who should apologize more,” she said, shooting him a stern, but amused, look. “I think,” she began, voice soft, “that arguments and hurtful words are something that’s bound to happen now and then when two people are together. Especially when we’re still learning about each other. I’m not excusing it, but,” she paused to seek out his eyes, making sure he could see the sincerity in hers, “I think the important thing is that we’re sorry, and that we’ll try not to hurt each other in the future.”

Newt’s tearful eyes bored into hers, shining now with hope. “You mean...you still want...this?” he waved his hand around them in a vague gesture that Tina somehow understood perfectly.

“Yeah, of course.” She tilted her head and frowned. “Did you really think I’d give up that easily?” A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she dropped her head a bit. “Um. Do _you_ still want...?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately, cutting her off. She looked up to find him smiling awkwardly at the outburst before ducking his head, embarrassed.

“Good,” she said, her own sheepish grin matching his. “That’s...good.” 

There was a little bit more confidence in his eyes as he sat up straighter and fully turned toward her for the first time since she’d arrived in the loft. “I really am very sorry. I thought perhaps I’d...well, that I’d ruined everything.”

“No,” she said softly, reaching for his hand and covering it with her own. “I care about you, Newt. Very much. That won’t change because of a stupid argument where we say things we regret, though I hope those won’t happen often.”

He threaded his fingers through hers and clung hard to her hand, looking at her with wide, wet eyes and hopeful desperation. He was looking at her like she was _everything_, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster. She loved him, she knew she did, and the words were on the tip of her tongue. It was too soon, though, she thought...things were still so new between them. But his _eyes_. He didn’t often meet her eyes directly, or hold her gaze for long, but when he did, it was with such intensity that it left her feeling breathless. He set aside his coffee cup and took her other hand as well, clinging now to both of them like a lifeline.

“I care about you too, Tina,” he whispered, voice husky with emotion, “so much.”

Without warning, he suddenly darted his head forward toward hers, and she instinctively reared back at the unexpected movement, loosening her grip on his hands in the process. A shadow passed over his eyes as he backed away again, crumpling in on himself. “I’m sorry,” he said in a pained whisper, pulling his hands fully from hers and looking away. “Of course I shouldn’t have...not so soon after…”

Oh. _OH_. He’d been trying to...and she… “Hey, Newt?” she said as she reached out and took one of his hands again, squeezing it reassuringly. He turned his eyes back up to hers, hurt and confusion in them. She smiled at him with all the love she could put into it, hoping he’d understand. “You wanna try that again? You startled me, is all.”

“Oh,” he squeaked, clearly mortified. His eyes darted up and down a few times before finally settling on hers. He was blushing, and from the heat she could feel in her face she knew she was too. He leaned toward her again—much more slowly this time—and, now knowing his intent, she moved toward him as well. They paused when they were close, still looking into each other’s eyes, just reveling in the intimacy of being close enough to share breath. He lifted his free hand to brush her cheek, just as he’d done the previous evening before they’d been interrupted. _It’s unlikely to rain inside a stable_, she thought, tamping down a nervous giggle that threatened to bubble out at the thought. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and her impulse to laugh died instantly—giddiness in her chest replaced with burning heat. She swallowed hard and lowered her eyes to his mouth.

And then, as easy as breathing, they moved together to close the gap, eyes falling closed as lips met. It was a simple kiss—a gentle press of lips, held for just a moment before pulling back to gauge each other’s reaction. Newt was looking at her with a wide and slightly dazed smile that she couldn’t help but return. For all the nerves and buildup it had turned out to be such an easy and natural thing, and she found herself leaning forward to do it again. This time he met her lips a bit more firmly, though it was no less gentle than the first kiss. They faltered a bit—noses bumped, heads turned the wrong way—but with a bit of laughter and a newfound confidence they quickly fell into sync as their lips connected again and again. She’d been right when she’d daydreamed that his lips on hers would feel even more amazing than when they held hands. Every tingling brush of them sent a spark alight in her chest, like she’d been stunned. He tasted like coffee and smelled like hay, and Tina felt like she was drowning in the dizzying warm feeling of being so completely surrounded by him. The hand he’d had on her cheek slid into her hair as he gently cupped the back of her head, coaxing her closer. His other hand was still tightly clasped in hers and she found she was in no hurry to let go, but she trailed her free hand up his arm, over his shoulder, and then plunged her fingers into the messy waves of his hair, causing him to make a gasping sound against her lips that she very much wouldn’t mind hearing again.

And then suddenly Newt was ripped away, and Tina opened her eyes, blinking in confusion to find him sprawled out in the straw. Gracie, who had apparently had enough of them, had fluffed out her wings and knocked him over. She was chirping and trilling at Newt in what might’ve been a scolding, or maybe laughter.

“Oi!” Newt yelped as he sat up and shot Gracie a glare. “That was _rude_.”

Gracie chirped and bumped her head into Newt’s shoulder, knocking him down again. Now Tina was certain that she was laughing at him.

“All right,” Newt huffed as he sat up again. “That’s enough of that, thank you.”

Gracie began cooing softly and nuzzling him with her beak, which Tina thought _might_ have been an apology, but it somehow seemed as though she was almost...mocking him.

“Yes, all right,” Newt scoffed, “I’m a big baby, you’re right, thank you...can I stay upright now?” _Oh,_ Tina thought, _she _had _been mocking him._ She couldn’t help but smile.

Suddenly Gracie squawked and turned to look at Tina, fixing her with a steely glare. She moved her beak closer and sniffed, then squawked again, louder this time. The playful mannerisms she’d been displaying with Newt were gone, and Tina was alarmed. “What?” she asked, looking to Newt.

Newt was frowning, clearly also perplexed, but then his eyes seemed to fully take in her attire for the first time and he cocked his head, questioning. “Whose coat is that? It doesn’t look like yours.”

“Oh,” she replied, looking down at herself. “It’s Theseus’. I was kinda upset and left the house without mine, so he loaned me his.”

“Ah,” Newt’s lips twitched, “that explains it.”

“That explains _what_?”

“Well,” he replied, fighting a grin but blushing a bit, “she’s probably wondering why _my_ mate is carrying my brother’s scent on her.”

Tina blinked. “So...she’s calling me a hussy?”

“No, no,” Newt hastily reassured her, and then paused. “Well...a bit, yes.”

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. A hippogriff accusing her of stepping out on her ‘mate.’ Instead she smiled softly. “It’s all right, Gracie,” she said, meeting the beast’s unwavering stare. “I know which Scamander is mine.”

Newt’s head shot up at that, meeting her eyes with an intense but pleased look. “Yes,” he breathed out softly. “Yours.”

“Theseus is okay and all, but he isn’t _you_.”

Newt smiled and ducked his head in that way he did when he seemed to be a little overcome. “I believe that’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone compare me to my brother in a way that was favorable to _me_.”

Tina took his hand and gripped it tight, letting him know without words that she would be on his side whenever he needed it. He gripped back and looked at her, eyes shining.

Gracie watched the pair, seemingly satisfied that if Newt wasn’t alarmed by his mate smelling like another man, she’d let it drop. She gave Tina one last stare—a warning if she’d ever seen one—and flopped back down to curl around her youngster.

Newt playfully bumped his shoulder into Gracie’s side. “What’s this? Back to sleep again, lazybones? You could wake up and help me give Tina a proper tour of the grounds, you know.” He turned and grinned at Tina. “The best way to really see everything is by air.”

Gracie lifted her head and snorted at him, then lowered it again. Newt chuckled. “Have it your way. Maybe Swift is up for it.”

Tina watched as Newt lifted his fingers to his lips and whistled, the shrill sound following a melody of four distinct notes. Gracie and the young ‘griff both looked up at the sound, but made no other movement to acknowledge it.

There was a flurry of wings from across the stable, and Tina, wide-eyed, leaned back a bit as a huge dark gray hippogriff flew up toward them, beating its wings as it landed and sending loose straw scattering across the loft. The beast stopped in front of Newt, tucked its wings and gave a short squawk that seemed softer than what she would’ve expected from such a powerful looking creature.

“We’ll need to do introductions for you again,” Newt turned to tell her, almost apologetically. He stood and motioned for Tina to do the same. He gave the hippogriff a quick friendly bow, which the beast nodded to acknowledge. “Tina, this is Featherswift. He looks a bit frightening but he’s really very sweet, aren’t you, Swift?” Tina met Featherswift’s eyes and bowed respectfully, waiting to see if her bow would be returned. 

From behind them, Gracie lifted her head again and chirped at the new hippogriff, who cocked his head at Tina, looked at Newt, and then back to Tina, and began to chirp and trill in a way that seemed...pleased. He finally bowed in return to Tina, who righted herself with a breath of relief.

“Ah,” Newt grinned, a bit sheepishly. “I forgot to mention that Swift is Gracie’s mate. She’s filling him in on the news, I think. Um. About us.”

“Does he approve?”

Swift was standing proudly, chest puffed out, as he looked down at them and continued to make soft chirping sounds.

“He seems to,” Newt said, grinning. He walked to Swift’s side and patted the feathers along his neck. “What do you say, Swift? Do you feel like stretching your wings for a bit?”

Swift lowered his body and seemed to nod, which was apparently the signal to climb aboard. Tina stepped forward a little apprehensively. “Is he all right carrying both of us?”

“Yes, he’s fine,” Newt nodded. “Just think of him as a big, feathery, flying horse.”

Well, Tina thought, that made sense. But the idea of _flying_ on the back of a beast gave her pause. “Is there...what do I hold on to?”

“Oh,” Newt grinned, a little awkwardly. “I rather thought it would be easiest if you sat behind me and held on to, um...me.”

“But,” she frowned, “what’ll be holding _you_ on?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ve flown with Swift countless times. The only way I’d fall off is if I _tried_.”

She gave him a playful smirk. “Well maybe don’t do that, huh?” 

He ducked his head and smiled. “You’ve really nothing to worry about, Tina, I promise.”

“Who’s worried?” she replied, but still made no move to climb aboard.

Newt held out his hand to her. “Do you trust me?”

“With beasts, or in general?” she quipped, then, before letting him try to form a reply to that, she took his hand and met his eyes with sincerity. “Yeah, Newt. I trust you.”

He grinned. “Then come on.”

Newt dropped her hand for a moment to gracefully swing himself onto Swift’s back in a practiced fluid motion. He then reached for her hand again, and, when she took it, gently helped pull her up as she - less gracefully - climbed on behind him. Tina shifted around to get comfortable, keeping her legs bent a bit to make room for Swift’s wings and to fit them behind Newt’s. She was glad he was in front of her and couldn’t see her flushed face as she settled up against him, their thighs touching and her chest to his back. She looped her arms around his torso, blushing harder as she struggled with figuring out exactly where to grip him and trying to ignore the feel of firm muscle beneath her hands.

“I’m going to lean forward a bit when we start flying,” Newt explained after giving her a moment to get comfortable, “just keep a hold of me and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Wait, don’t you need reins or something?” Tina asked, slightly alarmed as she realized he had nothing to use to steer the beast.

“No,” Newt answered simply, and then he made a quick clicking sound with his tongue and Swift surged forward, wings unfurling as he leapt off the edge of the loft. Tina’s stomach lurched up as they dropped and then back down as they soared through the open door and up into the sky.

The chilly air blasted her in the face and she gripped Newt harder, heart pounding with adrenaline as they climbed higher. When the ground seemed _very_ far below them, Swift pitched downward into a spinning dive, causing Tina to shout in surprise and Newt to let out a whoop of joy.

“He’s just showing off!” Newt shouted back at her, then leaned forward to stroke the beast’s neck and whisper to him. Immediately they leveled off as Swift spread his wings and held them in a gentle glide. So that was why Newt didn’t need reins. Whether it was a product of training or just Newt’s unique gift with creatures Tina wasn’t sure, but she was impressed all the same. 

They flew all around the borders of the property as Newt pointed out the various gardens they’d walked through the previous evening. It really was beautiful from the sky, he hadn’t been wrong. Swift seemed to know where the property edges were and would begin to turn before they reached one, but Tina was once again impressed by the magic involved in concealing it all as she’d catch the faint glow of the border when they’d begin to approach.

As she grew more used to flying, she leaned into Newt further, resting her chin against the back of his shoulder. It was partially to block the wind from her face, but mostly just to be closer to him. Newt craned his neck to look at her, and she couldn’t help but smile at his windswept appearance. It was the first time she’d seen him without his hair hanging in his face, and there was something about seeing him like this that made him seem more...confident? Less like he was trying to hide away from the world, at least. He was grinning—100% in his element as he was—and he looked absolutely beautiful. She stretched forward to press her lips to his in what was supposed to be a quick kiss, just her reveling a bit in being able to do so now, but he met her lips with eager enthusiasm and suddenly she was flying figuratively as well as literally as their mouths slid together. The angle was awkward and they couldn’t keep it up for long, but when they parted—flushed and panting a bit—they were both smiling. Newt turned his head to face forward again and pay attention to where they were going, and as he leaned closer into Swift’s neck, Tina leaned further against his back. It felt...nice, just being close to him.

They neared the cliffs and Newt turned his head back to her again. “How do you feel about another dive?”

She was feeling giddy from the adrenaline of both flying and kissing, and laughed. “Sure, why not?” Newt grinned and clicked his tongue again, leaning forward to tell Swift he was free to show off some more. Swift let out a joyful cry and began to climb a bit, gearing up for a spectacular cliff dive.

Knowing it was coming this time had Tina’s heart pounding with anticipation. Swift surged upward, then spread his wings into a majestic stall. Everything seemed to still for just a moment, and then he tucked his wings and dove. Tina and Newt both whooped with glee as they began to fall, wind rushing into their faces. 

Swift was diving at an angle as they fell toward the water. Tina held tighter to Newt, anticipating that they’d swoop upward just before hitting the ocean. But just as they crossed the water’s edge, Tina felt a burning sensation in her wrist and suddenly she and Newt were flying backwards—in the opposite direction of Swift, as though they’d hit an invisible barrier that bounced them back. They were stunned for just a moment of confusion before they each pulled out their wands to slow their fall. But Swift, who had cried out in alarm when his riders suddenly disappeared, was faster. He pulled out of his dive and into a rolling turn, soaring after them. He managed to catch each of their coats in a delicate talon, and gently flew them up the cliff face and dropped them at its edge.

Tina tried to drop into a roll as she landed, but she couldn’t quite get her feet under her and hit a little too fast, and got the wind knocked out of her as she collapsed into an ungainly heap instead. Newt—who _had_ managed to hit the ground in a perfect roll, much to Tina’s annoyance (_she _was the trained auror here)—rolled right into her with an “oof,” which made her pride feel slightly less wounded. Now, however, they were a two-person ungainly heap, with Newt sprawled on top of her.

“Hey,” she croaked from beneath him, still struggling to get her breath back.

“Hey,” he returned, looking down at her with an expression that still spoke of confused surprise.

“Guess those bands work.” Her wrist still burned from where it had activated.

Newt snorted. “I’d honestly forgotten all about it. I had thought perhaps that there’d be a bit of leeway with what was considered ‘trying to leave,’ but apparently not.”

“I guess that rules out a nice frigid ocean swim too, huh?”

Newt smiled at her quip, and she smiled back, and as they looked at each other they both seemed to simultaneously realize the position they were in. He was still on top of her, their legs tangled together and their hips nestled flush against one another, and as the realization hit them she watched Newt’s smile fade, to be replaced by a sort of wide-eyed intense _awareness_. Her brain fizzled out a bit at the unexpected situation they’d found themselves in, but through all the muddled feelings she couldn’t deny that he felt _good_ on top of her. She could feel herself blushing furiously at the thought. 

“I should, um...move,” Newt finally spoke, voice strained, but he made no move to do so.

“Yeah,” she whispered in reply, but also made no move to alter their current position.

She watched his eyes lower to her mouth for a moment before flitting back up to hers. Heart pounding and breath ragged, she met his heavy-lidded gaze as his head began lowering toward her, both of them slowly closing their eyes as their breath mingled.

An alarmed squawk had their eyes shooting back open, turning to find Swift hurrying toward them. He’d dropped them and then circled back to land, obviously concerned by the unexpected turn of events. Newt grinned, a little sheepishly, and finally rolled off of her. He hopped to his feet easily and extended a hand to help her up, just as Swift reached them and began nuzzling his head into Newt’s shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Newt soothed him, stroking the feathers along his neck. “We’re fine, old friend. Thanks for the rescue.”

Swift hadn’t been the only one hurrying toward them. Theseus had apparently been alerted by the bands activating, and had rushed out of the house to see what was going on.

“Are you all right?” he asked, panting as he ran up to them. “What happened?”

“We learned that you weren’t exaggerating about the ‘unpleasant rebound effects’ that these bands have,” Newt replied, a bit testily. 

“We were just flying,” Tina explained, a bit more gently, “and went over the edge of the water. It threw us backward and off of Swift.”

“Merlin,” Theseus breathed. “Well, I did warn you.”

Newt glared. “England’s borders do extend _into _the ocean a ways, you know.” 

Before Theseus could reply, a loud but gentle clanging sound rang out above their heads, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere. Tina looked up, searching for the source of the sound. “What is that?”

“That,” Newt replied, “would be the, um, doorbell, so to speak.”

They all turned in the direction of the large boulder that marked where they’d come in yesterday. There was a man standing there, hands in his pockets. Tina watched as he removed one of his hands and waved, almost as though he could see them, though Tina knew he couldn’t. “Who is that?” she asked, squinting.

It was Theseus who answered, eyes steely and expression completely blank. “It’s Dumbledore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gracie says "get a room."
> 
> Well friends, this was ENTIRELY too long of a wait for a chapter, and I apologize. I can't promise it won't happen again. All bets are off with the way this year has been going, but I DO want to stress again that I have no plans to abandon this, even if there's a significant delay between chapters. I hope the length of this chapter and the content made up for it in some small way. :)
> 
> Is that actual plot on the horizon there? Maaaaaybe.
> 
> Also, for the record, J.K. Rowling can eat a flaming cactus. I've got no time for TERFS.


End file.
